The Fun Has Just Begun
by Ariel-Sarina-Jen
Summary: Marcy May is your average 32 year old meth dealer. Keas is her best friend with a forgotten past. What happens when these two pay Los Santos a visit? Fights, humor, adventure, and much more await them. Rated M for language and sexual themes.
1. Introduction

Marcy May is a beautiful young woman at the age of 32. She loves to travel, and she never goes anywhere without her crazy best friend. She has just finished up business in Liberty City and is now making her way to Los Santos. One of her acquaintances in Liberty City told her to "hit up my boy Lamar and give him some love from his homeboy," as he put it. The Liberty City trip had been for business but this one is just for fun. After making a quick stop at home to touch base with Daniel – the man she left in charge of her business – Marcy is now on her way to Los Santos at this moment.

* * *

"Attention passengers, this is your pilot speaking. We will be arriving at our destination in approximately one hour. Please relax and enjoy the remainder of your flight." Hushed conversation continues throughout the cabin of the large plane. A couple ladies a few rows from the back of the cabin murmur amongst themselves.

"Did you see that brute of a man a few rows up?" the first woman asks, ducking down behind the seats before her so they don't catch wind of the conversation. The second woman looks ahead then ducks down as well.

"Yes, and did you see the woman he's with? They are quite the odd couple," the second responds. The first woman shakes her head.

"Not that. Did you see the blood on his shirt, and the scars on his arms? There's no doubt that man is trouble. What could he possibly be doing with that young woman?" She takes a quick peak over the seats again before quickly ducking back down. "I think she just looked at me!"

"Don't be ridiculous. There's no way she can hear us over the other ruckus going on." The second woman picks her head up, only to give a quiet gasp as she sees a woman standing just at the end of her row. The woman smiles down at them, her white teeth obvious. She tucks some stray strands of her auburn hair behind her ear.

"Hello ladies. Are you enjoying your flight?" she asks nicely. The two women glance at each other before smiling back.

"Yes, thank you," the first one closest to the window responds.

"Good. I'm Marcy, by the way. I heard you having some problems with my friend over there. Is there anything you would like me to clear up before we make it to our destination? I would rather not have anyone looking at us with hostility right when we arrive." She smiles kindly at the two. The two glance at each other again, now obviously more nervous.

"Well," the second woman starts, "I had some concerns over the blood and bullet holes littering his shirt."

"Ah yes, those," she responds with a reminiscent look on her heart-shaped face. "He's my bodyguard, you see. He has jumped in front of a bullet for me more times than any other. He has my full trust, which no other bodyguard of mine has ever accomplished. I never go anywhere without him." The first woman looks back at her with admiration, but the second still has her doubts.

"Why do you need a bodyguard in the first place?" she asks. "What kind of business do you do?" At that the auburn haired woman gives a sheepish smile.

"You see, in my business there is always competition. And some of that competition likes to get rid of theirs so they are the only ones people can go to. Now, I don't like to brag but I am proudly the only one in my city, and am expanding my business locations to other cities. This of course causes more competition and more enemies. I have had 2 other bodyguards before him, but he has been with me for 10 years now. I hope that cleared up any doubts you had in his character. I hope you enjoy the rest of your flight." Marcy gives them a friendly nod before heading back to her seat. She carefully maneuvers past her sleeping friend and plops down back into her seat. The second she becomes comfortable, the body next to her drops his head onto her shoulder.

Marcy sighs contently, resting her head against her friend's. The inside of the plane is actually quite roomy, which Marcy greatly appreciates. Flying is no problem so long as it isn't so cramped. Luckily for her 2 of the three seats in front of her have children in their preteens so they aren't tall enough to be seen. Also the lane seat in their row is empty thanks to the intimidating appearance of her favorite friend.

She dares not move her head as she glances over at Keas. His messy red hair smells of cheap shampoo. His head rests upon her shoulder for comfort in his awkwardly slumped position in his seat. His breathing is soft and light; flying has always seemed to make him fall asleep for some reason, although they don't fly often thanks to Marcy's fear. She watches his chest for a bit and finds relief in seeing it move up and down. Although his shirt is now bleach white thanks to a good cleaning, it still has several blood stains that wouldn't come out. She spots the mask he always wears on the left side of his head. She grins, remembering that she had bought him that Ichigo hollow mask as a present for him when they went to ComiCon 2 years ago. He had gone as Kreig while she was Mia from Borderlands 2.

Thinking further back to when they first met, she isn't entirely sure what compelled her to help him. Considering the circumstances, she would have been wiser to leave him behind at the time. However, she wouldn't be where she was today without him. She had been walking slowly back to her home one late afternoon. The sky was cloudy and the smell of rain was in the air. She had just gotten done with a meth deal that had gone south. Her client had begun getting product through someone else for a cheaper price and had this "great idea" to take her out and take her product. Unfortunately for him she never went to deals alone. She had brought muscle with her, but regrettably he had died while letting her escape the building.

 _Marcy just lost her pursuers a good 20 minutes ago. She unwillingly had to leave her car behind, so now she is walking with a slightly sprained ankle and a bullet wound above her right collarbone. Marcy feels a droplet of water hit her nose. She blinks once before looking up at the dark clouds above. "I should hurry. I don't want to catch a cold, too." With that said she picks up the pace a bit despite the throbbing in her left ankle. After walking another block she hears a loud shout ring out, causing her heart to skip a beat. She knows the scream of someone being killed much too well to think it could be anything else. A chill runs through her at the realization that the location of the yell is in an alley she has to walk by. After thinking of the other routes she could take, she comes to the conclusion that it would take too long to try and go around before it's down pouring cold rain._

 _With a deep calming breath Marcy pushes on toward the alley. Another yell resounds just before Marcy reaches the opening._ Ok Marcy, _she tells herself._ Just one peak around the corner and then I moves back. _However, once she peaks around the corner she can't bring herself to stop staring. Standing above two cops is a man who looks close to her own age. His deep red long hair is caked with dirt and is matted to his neck with sweat. His off-white wife-beater shirt is covered with sweat and blood. Blood leaks out from fresh holes in his shirt, but he doesn't seem to care as he takes heaving breaths. One of the cops – although missing an arm – is still alive. He radios in his location before the tall man yells. With a quick and heavy swing the cop's head is split in half with the redhead's tomahawk._

 _"Rwaaaah!" he yells out as he yanks the sharp object out of his skull._ Dear God, what have I gotten myself into? _Slowly and cautiously Marcy steps past the corner. She hopes to possibly creep right by without him noticing as he hacks at the cops' bodies. She really doesn't feel like having her life threatened a second time today. Of course luck was not on her side. She steps on a rock with her left foot, causing her foot to bend at the ankle. Sharp pains shoot straight up her leg. With a yelp Marcy ends up on the pavement of the sidewalk cradling her injured ankle. The light sprinkle of rain thickens as the storm grows nearer._

 _Marcy's eyes widen as she realizes just where she is. Slowly she lifts her head and gazes at the man. By then his attention is already on her. His breaths still heaving after his ordeal, he begins to slowly make his way towards her. His blue eyes are obviously bloodshot and seem to slightly shake. Fear grips at Marcy. She has no idea what is going through his head. She had run out of bullets during her fight earlier; not that bullets seem to slow him down any based on the obvious bullet wounds. In no time at all he's standing tall over her folded form on the ground. Marcy begins to shake with fear._

 _In a swift motion he lifts his tomahawk above his head. "Eep!" Marcy lets out as she quickly shuts her eyes and ducks her head. A short time passes before Marcy opens her eyes again. She lifts her head to see the handle of the weapon sticking out from behind his shoulder. Both of his hands are on his knees and he's crouched down in front of her. Pale green and bloodshot blue eyes stare at each other. Marcy notices they aren't shaking like they were before._ Why isn't he doing anything? _Finally he looks away first and gazes at her hands around her ankle._

 _"Hurt?" he speaks. She follows his gaze._ Why is he concerned about that?

 _"Ah! Yes. I hurt it earlier and stepping on that rock didn't help," she responds. She moves to stand, but the pain makes it a bit difficult. The man sees this and stands before offering her a hand. She takes it thankfully and offers him a smile once she's up. Just as he goes to smile back, they both hear sirens approaching from the distance. Marcy looks to the two dead cops worriedly. She had forgotten that they were able to get their location through before dying. The man looks around with his tomahawk in his right hand trying to pinpoint where the sounds are coming from. Marcy looks back at the man._ He looks like he's ready for another fight already, _she worries._ If I leave him here he's bound to be killed with how much he's bleeding already. _Marcy takes his other hand firmly which quickly catches his attention. "If you don't want to be arrested then you had best come with me." With that she turns toward the way she was headed. Her arm lifts as she moves further from him until she finally feels a tug. Her arm drops a bit as he begins following behind. He intertwines their fingers and Marcy can't help the smile tugging at her lips._

Marcy feels Keas stir in his sleep. A loud yawn escapes as he lifts his head up from her shoulder. "Well good morning sleepy head. Were you comfy?" she asks teasingly. He turns to look at her and grins with his now white teeth. His short red hair is a mess, but he makes no attempt to fix it.

"Yeah," he responds. "Shoulder comfy." Marcy smiles with a small giggle. He reaches over and gives her arm a playful punch. "Next time, you sleep. Be less afraid." Ah yes, now she remembers why she helped him. He's always considerate of her, no matter the circumstances. Back then, he had been concerned about her ankle, despite the fact she had just witnessed him kill 2 people.

Silence falls between the two friends for a while. "Marcy?" Keas speaks up. He was getting really tired of the quiet between them. Usually he's asleep on plane rides so he isn't accustomed to the times that conversations lull.

"Hmm?" she responds. She turns to face him from the magazine she had been reading.

"What we gon' do there?" he asks, pointing up at the intercom. They had just announced a bit ago that they would be arriving in 15 minutes. Marcy grins at him.

"Whatever the hell we want." Her response makes him grin back at her. _Honestly I have no clue what we'll be doing. It never even occurred to me that I should look up the map of the island before coming here._ Marcy scolds herself internally. _All I did was book a hotel room for 2 months._

"So, we can see strippers?" he asks. "And steal cars? And kill? Can we swim? Is there a festival? I always want to go to festival," he continues. "Is there ski-jets? No, no; it's Jet Ski, right? And boats? Will we be selling? Do I get a fight?"

"Whoa, man! Slow down!" Marcy interrupts. "Like I said, big boy; we'll be doing whatever the hell we want. We're coming here for fun, not business. So if you want to see strippers and go to the festival, then that's what we're going to do. What would you like to do first?" Keas bounces in his seat with his hands clasped together.

"Festival! Festival first! Then bikes. I like bikes," he tells her with a child-like cheeky grin. Marcy laughs at the expression. She's only seen him this innocently excited a handful of times. He's gotten excited before, but those times it was for killing someone.

"Sure Keas, we'll go to a festival first." With a big _whoop!_ Keas sits in his chair anxiously.

A short while later they hear the overhead speaker kick on. "Attention ladies and gentlemen," the pilot's voice speaks over the intercom. "Welcome to Los Santos."

* * *

Hello! Welcome to the very first fanfic I have ever posted. I've always had great ideas to write about but I have always been nervous to see what people think of them. This is one that I really enjoy and I hope you do, too. Please let me know what you think! Thanks for taking the time to read this.

-Ariel


	2. Chapter 1

Marcy and Keas step out of the airport building together. She takes a deep breath of the fresh air; her red shirt pulls up and reveals the pink belly button piercing she has. The wind from the ocean tousles their hair and pushes it away from their faces. Keas, who is standing a step behind Marcy, reaches up and lightly caresses her auburn hair with a smile on his face. To his relief Marcy doesn't acknowledge if she feels or notices him doing so. She lets out her breath with a loud content sigh while placing her fists on both hips. Keas quickly brings his hand back down as Marcy turns to look at him over her shoulder.

"So Keas, what shall we do about a car? We could rent out a car," Marcy says to him. He raises an eyebrow at her. "Yeah, you're right. That's not like us. Well then should we call a cab, or take a car?" Immediately Keas' eyes brighten.

"Take," his speaks in a calm voice. Marcy gives an eager nod.

"Right. You stay here with our luggage. I'll be right back." Keas nods back at her before taking their luggage to a bench. From there Keas keeps an eye on Marcy as she makes her way over to the long-term parking lot.

Once inside the designated area for visitors who will be gone for more than a few days, Marcy begins to look critically at each vehicle she passes. Ones with flat tires and oil spots beneath them are passed over quickly. She walks past a Declasse Asea with a dent in the front bumper. Any vehicles with obvious bodily damage is easier found once reported to the police; she would much rather not have to pay for repairs on a car that isn't hers. Next she passes on a Declasse Vigero. It doesn't look bad, but she would much rather just go with something else. It really doesn't suit her or Keas. Finally her eyes land on a matte green Cheval Fugitive. Coming up to it she notices that it has newer tires with plenty of tread and paint without a single scratch. She looks in the window and finds a novel sitting in the passenger seat (obviously forgotten by the regretful flier) and a GPS attached to the dash of the car. The GPS would be a great help in a city she doesn't know the layout of. She makes her decision and tries the door handle.

"Damn. I really don't want to break a window," Marcy murmurs to herself. She really doesn't want to make too much noise and catch unwanted attention. She then moves toward the front of the car and crouches down to reach behind the fender. She remembers back with her Grotti Carbonizzare she would put a spare key behind the front driver's fender in case she lost her keys at some point. A grin spreads across her face as her fingers wrap around the familiar shape of a key. She pulls it out no problem and removes the magnet from the key. She places the magnet back in place before moving back to the door. Click! She opens the door without a problem, silence greeting her inside the car. It's not enough to say how relieved she feels that an alarm hadn't gone off. She then puts the key into the ignition and turns it. Vroom! She can't help but grin at herself in the rearview mirror as she adjusts it to suit her. "Well I'm sure glad that went smoothly. I don't need the cops on me already," she comments. "Although, I may need a new paintjob on this thing; I'm not sure when the owner will be coming back and filing a report when she finds her car gone."

Marceline smoothly brings the car up to the doors of the building. She climbs out, leaving the door open and the car running. "Hey Keas!" she calls out, lifting her arm up in a wave. "Bring the luggage over here!" She moves to the back of the car and reaches out to open the back passenger door. "We can put it back-" Marcy stops when she hears tires screeching and feels the handle rip from her fingers. She turns quickly to watch as someone takes off with _her_ car that _she_ stole. "Hey Asshole! That's my car, dammit!" she practically screams at the driver. Keas hurries the rest of the way over with their luggage in hand, a worried expression thrown her way. He knows exactly where this kind of thing will bring them, especially with that look in her eyes. Marcy glances around quickly, assessing everything around them. She spots a woman just pulling up to the sidewalk near them with an extended cab truck and hurriedly makes her way over to it. She yanks open the door of the Vapid Sadler without hesitation and startles the poor woman inside. "Get the fuck out!" Thankfully the woman notices the seriousness in Marcy's expression and clumsily scrambles out of the vehicle.

As Keas puts the luggage into the passenger's seat Marcy watches as 2 motorcyclists rush past. She watches them for a moment while Keas climbs into the bed of the truck. The motorcycles follow after her thief in pursuit, so Marcy makes the assumption that Asshole must have pissed off a couple people and stole her stolen car to escape. Just as Marcy finishes buckling up she hears Keas hit the side of the cab. "Ready!" Keas calls out to her. With a firm nod Marcy shifts into first and takes off after her thief and his pursuers.

"You keep an eye on them, Keas! I'll focus on the traffic!" she calls back to him through the small open window in the back. She glances at the rearview mirror only to see nothing but Keas' broad chest behind his white shirt as he holds on to the light bar above the cab. "Here!" She passes her extra pistol magazine to him through the window in case he may need it later. After weaving past a Stanier she glances at the GPS in the truck to see where she is. The little icon representing the truck shows it moving through a district of Los Santos called La Puerta. When Marcy looks back up she lets out a shriek while jerking the steering wheel to the right. The owner of the blue Felon's eyes are huge as he lays on his horn. Marcy lets out a breath and brings her right hand to her chest. She feels her heart pick up in speed as the adrenalin starts to pump its way into her bloodstream and causes her pupils to dilate. A shiver racks her frame at the familiar feeling. She can't remember the last time she felt this rush. With her left hand on the wheel and her right on the shifter Marcy narrows her eyes in concentration. She swerves to the right to go around a Cavalcade, and then merges into the left lane to pass a F620. She comes around a bus then quickly cuts in front of it to follow the bikers down a street to the left.

Marcy spots two black Burrito vans join the motorcyclists in the chase with three additional bikers. "Man, whoever these guys are they must be really pissed at this thief," Marcy mumbles to herself. She cuts into oncoming traffic to go around a large cluster of cars in her way, causing her to narrowly miss a head on collision with a taxi. One of the vans gets a flat tire from the thief's bullets and loses control, ramming right into an electricity pole as a result. Marcy picks up the speed and dodges past a Dubsta to get right next to the other van.

"Die!" Keas shouts. Marcy jerks the truck to the left and hits the front of the van. She forces it off the road and into the side of a building. She corrects the truck before she crashes herself. "Nice job, Marcy!" Keas tells her encouragingly which causes her to smile. Finally she's almost caught up to the bikes. To her horror she sees the motorcyclists _shooting_ at her car! "Fuckers!" she hears Keas shout at them. He took the word right out of her mouth.

"Keas, take those bikers down! If we get separated, don't worry! We're near the beach so just wait for me there!" she yells over the engine. A loud bang causes Marcy to flinch as Keas opens fire on one of the bikes. His bullets puncture the bike's rear tire, causing it to lose control and go into a roll. The next bike does the same thing when Keas switches targets. "Hang on!" Marcy warns. Keas stops firing and grips the light bar tightly. Marcy punches it forward and rams right into another of the bikes. The rider flies forward and tumbles on the road before being run over by the truck's tires.

"Luke! You bitch!" the second to last biker shouts at her. He pulls back so he's right next to her door before pointing his pistol right at her. A loud roar erupts from behind Marcy making the biker flinch.

"Marcy nice lady!" Keas screams. Marcy watches in horror as Keas leaps out of the bed and tackles the biker onto the pavement.

"Keas!" Marcy calls after him. She sees him motion for her to keep going in her rearview mirror. "Fuck!" She narrows her eyes in determination. She plans to take care of this mess and get back to Keas as soon as she can. She follows the lone motorcyclist and the car thief through Vespucci Canals and towards Little Seoul. She sees the car take a sharp left and the biker is right in front of her. Seeing an opening she puts the petal to the metal and rams into the bike as it goes to make the turn, then slams on the breaks. The biker slams into the hood of the truck before flying off with the momentum. He hits the building at the corner of the street and leaves blood splatter on the wall. Marcy can't help but grin at her accomplishment. Keas and she have now successfully fought off the people after her car thief.

With a happy air to her she begins down the road Asshole had turned onto. Before long she finds him down a side street with his brights on. He flashes them once before moving to a parking space. Marcy turns down the alley and parks next to him on the left. He steps out first with his hands up; Marcy chuckles at the gesture. She is anything but a cop. She opens the truck door and climbs out effortlessly. When she comes around the front of the truck the thief's expression turns to one of shock and confusion. He really wasn't expecting a woman.

Marcy looks him over with intrigue. His hair is short and black from what she can tell beneath his flat billed hat. His white tank top shirt doesn't have a spot of blood on it underneath his black open hoodie. His dark blue jeans fit him well and don't sag on him, which Marcy is very pleased to find. She can't stand people that wear clothes that obviously don't fit. He has a wide nose and brown eyes, but they suit him well. He reaches his hand out for an honest handshake and Marcy's gotta say she is quite impressed with her first impression of him. She takes his hand with a grin.

"The name's Franklin," he starts off. Letting go of her hand he continues, "Thanks for that back there. That was some pretty impressive driving, Lady." Marcy gives him a nod.

"Thanks. You can call me Marcy. You're just lucky to take that car in desperation; it's my car," she tells him. "If you weren't being chased then Keas would have been attacking you right now and not them." He takes a single step back so he's now leaning on the car.

"Well damn. I knew today would be a lucky day." Marcy lets out a laugh. Sarcasm is always funny in her book.

"I thought so, too," she responds. She moves her hair away from her face after some wind blows it in her way. "Well hey; ya think I can get my car back? I did go through all that trouble to catch up to you." Marcy gestures to the car behind him and with a jolt he pushes off the car.

"Oh shit, yeah. Sorry for pulling you into that." Marcy is quick to wave it off as she moves to the truck's passenger door. She opens it up and grabs a couple luggage bags before turning back to the car. Franklin is nice enough to pull the lever inside the car to open up the trunk for her before she reaches it.

"It's no big deal, really. It was a nice refresher from the norm of my city." After placing the bags in the trunk she moves to go back for more. To her delight she sees Franklin with 3 of her bags as he passes her to get to the trunk.

"What about your boy back there? Will he be ok?" he asks. Marcy chuckles under her breath.

"Oh don't worry about Keas. Knowing him he's probably beaten that biker's face in with his own helmet and is already on his way to the beach by now. If there's one thing I know about Keas is that there isn't a person alive who stands a chance against him in a fight." Marcy grabs the last 2 bags and closes the truck door with her elbow. "If you want this truck go ahead and take it. I took it from a lady so I could chase after you, so you may want to bring it to a shop if you plan to keep it so you don't get arrested," she tells him. "The keys are still in the ignition." She places the last of the luggage in the trunk before closing it.

"Well shit, thanks. I'd rather not walk home from here," he responds. Marcy walks up to Franklin. This time she sticks her hand out to initiate a handshake and he doesn't hesitate to take it.

"It was nice to meet you." She reaches into her back jeans pocket and takes out a small card before holding it out to him. "Here's my personal number in case you're ever in trouble again." Franklin hesitates for a second before taking the card from her and looking it over. "Or if you ever wanna get a drink or something. I may be older than you but I still know how to have fun." Franklin smiles at her before putting the card in his pocket.

"Sure thing. How long are you staying here?" he asks. Marcy just shrugs.

"I'm not sure. I rented out an apartment for 2 months in advance, but I might stay longer if things are going fine back at my business at home. Who knows? Maybe I'll vacation here again later on." Franklin raises an eyebrow; he noticed her mention her own business. He crosses his arms.

"What kind of business do you have?" he asks. Marcy mentally slaps herself. She didn't mean to mention that. Before Marcy could come up with a lie, Franklin continues speaking. "And what kind of business woman drives like that, anyway?" He takes her card back out and takes a better look at it. 'Marceline May – Entrepreneur.' She sighs in defeat; he's more perceptive than she suspected.

"Alright, I guess I can explain myself a bit. I run a meth lab back in my city. I've been doing it for 12 years now and with Keas' help these past 10 years I've become the only meth business there. I used to be a getaway driver before then for extra money, and honestly it's been a few years since I had to drive that way. Keas and I decided that it was due time for a vacation, and one of my associates suggested Los Santos, so here we are. I don't really know of any places around here yet to have fun, so if you ever wanna just hang give me a call." Marcy shrugs, her shirt lifting up a bit when she does so. Franklin catches a glimpse of her bellybutton ring before her shirt goes back down. "I'm usually down for anything. But of course Keas would be there with me." Franklin speaks up before she can continue.

"What is up with him, anyway? I've never seen anyone jump off a moving truck like that." Franklin pauses. Although he has jumped off a car before himself he was at least leaping onto a moving boat and not onto the hard pavement. Marcy smiles sheepishly. She hates speaking about Keas without his knowledge.

Quickly she says, "I think that's a story for another time. I gotta get back to him before he tries to find me himself, and that wouldn't be good for anyone without me there to calm him down." Franklin nods in understanding. Based on what he has seen and heard about him so far it would be really bad if he freaked out. "It was nice meeting you though, Franklin. It was refreshing to have a conversation with someone who isn't so judgmental."

"Yeah, same to you," he responds. It's been a while for him, too. Well, at least with a complete stranger that is. Although he still has some questions for her he can tell that she isn't going to answer him right now. He'll just have to wait for the next time they cross paths.

Marcy goes to her car's drivers' side door and opens it. She pauses for a bit, resting her arms on top of the door. "I did mean it, you know. If you're ever in a tight situation, give me a call. I'll come help you."

"Thanks in advance, then." She throws him a smile before climbing into the car and taking off towards the beach. He watches her drive away before pulling her business card out of his pocket again. "Marcy, huh?" He starts his way to the truck's door. "Wait 'til Michael hears about this."


	3. Chapter 2

After following a very vague text from Keas, Marcy finds herself before a long, wide pier. She can hear the music from the ferris wheel from where she stands by her car at the back of the parking lot. She can hear the calls of the vendors trying to attract people to their stalls of wears. She sees one lone roller coaster and a few places to eat and play arcade games. The festival may not be as grand as Marcy had hoped but at least she can see Keas playing a game and having fun.

As Marceline makes her way over to him, Keas keeps his focus on the target in front of him. Situated between a t-shirt stand and a stall selling sunglasses (and bongs) is a temporary target game where you gain prizes based on points earned. With a skilled hand Keas whips the throwing dart with expert precision. Bullseye! The dart lands smack dab in the middle of the target. The few girls who had come to crowd around the muscular man let out cheers and congratulations; they had all been drawn in by his "bad boy" appearance. The fact that he hasn't spoken and has gotten a bullseye 5/5 times adds to his attractiveness to the ladies.

"Amazing!" the male vendor exclaims, his eyes wide. "I've never had anyone get all five!" His statement only caused the bikini wearing girls to ogle at him even more. "What prize would you like? You can have any!"

"I would _love_ that large teddy bear!" a blonde woman tells him, running her hand down his arm.

"No way, you skank! He's gonna get _me_ those earrings!" a brunette responds, putting her hand on his broad shoulder.

Keas' eyes move to the different items mentioned by the arguing women around him. A blue hand fan, a large panda bear, a pair of cat ears, and so on. Finally he spots a keychain that's fairly simple in design. It's round on the top half while the bottom half is a bottle opener. In the circle is a yellow background with the silhouette of a spiral hill with 2 people standing on top. On the left of them it reads "We are simply" and continues on the right with "meant to be." The traditional keyring is replaced with a metal clasp that can clip around something. Keas can't help the smile that comes to his lips as he points it out. "This one," his deep voice cuts through the higher pitched ones of the women.

The vendor looks at him quizzically. "Are you sure? That's one of our prizes for making 20 points." Keas gives a strong nod. The man shrugs and proceeds to give him the keychain.

"That's kind of cute! Is that for me?" the shortest of the girls asks him. He glances to her before shaking his head. As the other women seem to bicker over who the keychain is for Keas spots Marcy walking down the pier toward him. She smiles and waves from where she is and from what Keas can tell she also speeds up her pace a bit. He decides it's best to meet her halfway across the distance so he begins walking away from the stall and the befuddled women.

"Hey Keas!" Marcy calls as they grow closer. "I'm so glad to see you're alright. That was very brave of you to do that." They each take the final few steps to come face to face with one another. Marcy wraps her arms around his shoulders in a warm hug. Keas wastes no time in wrapping his arms innocently around her waist and pulling her to him. "Thank you for saving me again," she tells him with her head on his shoulder. "I don't know what I would do without you."

A kind of fluttering feeling grows within Keas whom has become far too used to the occurrence. Ever since the first time he saved her life he has felt the flutter of his heart when she gives her thanks. It's never more than some simple means like a hug or a home cooked meal, but the warm smile she gives him makes it all worthwhile, although he can never gain the courage to mention it to her. She's done so much for him that he doesn't even know how to repay her. A bright smile crosses his lips as he pushes her away a bit to break the hug before fetching the keychain from his pocket. Without a single doubt in his mind he holds it out for her.

"I won this for you," he says simply. It doesn't come out as casually as he had tried to make it, but Marcy smiles nonetheless. With smooth hands she accepts the keychain from him. She looks it over with a slight smile and for just a couple seconds Keas worries that she might not like it.

"You really got this for me?" she asks. He grins when he nods to her. She takes hold of the clip and hooks it to the belt loop on her right so it hangs at the front of her hipbone. "This is lovely! Thank you. I'll wear it all the time." She takes ahold of his hand and starts off back toward the festival. "Come on! Let's go see what else is there!" Keas feels his heart grow warm as he follows her loyally.

Marcy and Keas walk around the small festival hand in hand looking at the different attractions. They had just finished eating at the hotdog food cart (the peanuts from the plane really didn't do much). Keas suddenly juts his arm in front of Marcy to point at the "Ferris Whale" ride. "Can we?" he asks. Without giving him a proper response Marcy smiles as she pulls him over to the line. As they wait in line silently Marcy ignores the conversations of the people around them. Keas, however, isn't as lucky. First he hears the hushed voice of the woman standing behind him.

"He looks pretty dangerous. I bet you he's got a criminal record for sure," she says.

"Yeah, no doubt. I wonder if he's ever killed anyone," the teen next to her responds.

"Mom, look! It's an Ichigo mask! Can I get one?" he hears a kid by about 14 shout. He glances over just as the mother looks at him. She gives a soft gasp before taking her son's hand and pulling him away.

"We don't talk to people like that, hun. They're nothing but trouble." Keas quickly looks away from the two after her hurtful statement. It's true that no matter where they go trouble seems to follow. For as long as he can remember he has been fighting to survive in this world.

Marcy turns to look at Keas after noticing that he hadn't moved up with the line and sees the troubled look on his face. Pain squeezes at her chest as her heart aches for him. She knows the things people say about him; she hears it every day, and every single person who has bad mouthed him is on her personal hit list. _People are so judgmental these days. Whatever happened to not judging a book by its cover?_ Marcy grasps his hand firmly and snaps him out of his thoughts. They both exchange sad smiles before climbing into the ferris wheel cart. Once the wheel starts moving Marcy decides to try and cheer up her friend across from her. "You know," she begins, "I never got the chance to tell you of your memory last night." Keas' eyes instantly light up.

From what Keas had told her after they first met, he has no recollection of his childhood. The farthest back his memory goes is when he woke up in a basic medical room where the doctor told him that he had suffered a concussion. He had received it after a fight broke out in the lunchroom of the jail he was in. He then spent 2 more years in jail for a crime he didn't remember committing before being released into a world he knew nothing about. He turned 27 just a few weeks after being released (the doctor was nice enough to tell him his birthdate), and just a couple months after that was when Marcy came into his life. After being in each other's lives for almost a year Keas began waking up in the middle of the night and sleepwalking into Marcy's room where he would relay to her the events of his memory he dreamed of. The first night he woke himself up before leaving his room and said nothing to Marcy, not wanting to disturb her. However, after waking up he forgot a majority of the memory. Since then any time he wakes with a memory he goes to Marcy right away in his half-asleep state and tells her all the little details. She then relays the memory back to him when he's fully awake and he's able to restore that memory.

Keas leans forward in his seat and is visibly excited to gain another piece of his past. Marcy clears her throat. "You were 21 almost 22 years old at the time. You had just gotten off probation for a reason you couldn't remember. You were working for a road construction company and had decided to go grab a few drinks after work. Your coworker Mark had suggested the location so you, him and 2 others had gone together. The youngest of the group was the DD-" Marcy spots his confused expression, "the designated driver."

"Oh. Ok, keep going," he murmurs.

"Right. You were talking and having a great time when you heard a commotion. A woman with light brown hair and a pretty face had just dumped her drink on a man saying he put a pill in it. He was trying to convince her that she was imagining things, but you and her both weren't convinced. She left in a huff, her skirt going down just above her knees. Not even a minute passed when the man followed after her. You gave him one minute before telling your coworkers that you were going out for a smoke. You headed out the door and heard a trash can fall over shortly after. When you followed the noise to an alley a building over you found that same man pinning the woman down. He had her skirt pulled up to her hips and both arms pinned with one of his. He was just finishing up pulling his pants down when you pulled him off of her. As the woman covered herself you got in a fight with the man. Your vision ran red after seeing his bleeding face." Before Marcy could continue the story, their carriage stopped at the bottom of the ride. Neither of them moves when the operator comes up to the doorway.

"Alright, you two; party's over," the overweight man tells them. Marcy rummages through her purse before pulling out a hundred dollar bill and handing it to the 50-something year old.

"Here. We're done when I tell you so," she tells him calmly. The man holds the bill up to the light before stuffing it in his pocket and patting the side of the cart.

"Sure thing, little lady. Just say the word." With that dealt with their ride resumes and Marcy continues her story.

"You grabbed the man by his hair and slammed it repeatedly into the brick wall after a good fight. 'Don't ever take advantage of women!' you yelled in his face when you were done. You dropped him and he fell limply to the ground, though he was still breathing. The woman was on the phone with 911 when you went to check on her." Marcy stops for a moment when she sees the hurt flash in Keas' blue eyes.

"Lady called police on me? That how I got in jail?" Keas asks. His eyes grow darker with sadness and Marcy feels that pang in her heart again when she sees it.

"No, actually she was calling the police on the would-be rapist. You went up to her cautiously and asked, 'Are you alright, Miss? I wasn't too late, was I?' And she responded, 'No, I'm ok. Thank you so much for saving me.' After that she told the police your location and that they would need an ambulance for the man. But when the police arrived they had you at gunpoint." Marceline notices the anger spreading into his gaze at the mention of the cops' actions. "The woman tried explaining that you were her savior, but after checking the man and finding no heartbeat they put you in handcuffs and brought you to the police station." She reaches across to put her hand on his shoulder. "That's where you stopped, but I know what happened afterward." Keas reaches up and takes hold of her hand, brings it down to his lap, and holds it with both of his large calloused ones.

"What happened?" His speech is slower and full of dread and sadness. Marcy feels that ache in her chest again as it grows tight with regret. She knows what's bothering him; the cops had automatically assumed that he was the initial criminal and not the man lying on the ground. Instead of giving him a chance they categorized him as scum and nothing more.

Marcy reaches her left hand into her pocket and fishes out her touchscreen phone. From there she opens her browser and goes to the newest bookmark she made. "I tried to look up the incident to see if I could find an article about it and was able to find one. Would you like me to read it to you?" Keas gives her a slow nod.

"Friday, May 25th, 2001. Heroic Man Saves Woman From Would-be Rapist.

"A call came in to the Winston-Salem police department from the victim at 1:47am. According to police reports and witness testimony, Madison Jones (24) was at a local bar when Christopher Beake (44) slipped a date rape drug into her drink. Luckily she noticed it before consuming said drug and got into a verbal confrontation with Beake. Jones then left the scene where she was followed by Beake and attacked. Before Beake got the chance to take advantage of Jones a mysterious hero tackled Beake off of her and taught him a lesson. Unfortunately the unnamed hero took his lesson too far and Beake died while waiting for an ambulance. The heroic citizen was taken into custody on charges of manslaughter, which caused uproar from other citizens.

"He was only saving the girl from a horrific attack. If he hadn't stepped in who knows how far that man could have gone? He could have killed her after he was done (raping her). That hero saved her life!" one of the customers at the pub told our reporters. "I'd love to buy that man a drink." He's not the only one who shares this view. Many locals expressed their gratitude to the hero for stepping in.

"After police released the attacker's name (Christopher Beake) more victims were discovered and stepped forward. Taylor Griswold (19) was Beake's first recorded rape victim, along with Stephanie Harrington (26), Mandy Scott (21), Victoria Shellinga (32)-" Marceline sees anger flash through Keas' eyes at the mention of Marcy's age, "and Mary Kingsley (16) Beake's first and only murder victim.

"Because of the evidence against Beake and the protests for prosecuting the hero, he was instead charged with a felony assault and sentenced to 10 years of jail."

Silence falls between the two after the end of the article, her hand still help within both of his. Their cart reaches the bottom of the ferris wheel then continues on for the 3rd time. Marcy waits for Keas to say something, but when the cart reaches the bottom and begins around for the 4th time she realizes that he might not.

"Keas-"

"I don't regret it," he interrupts. Marcy is startled to hear how low his voice is right now. He has his head hung low, staring at their hands.

"What do you mean?" she asks softly. Keas' grip on her hand tightens.

"I don't regret saving that girl. I don't regret killing that man. If I had chance again, I would do the same. I would not hold back. Even if I go to jail again. I don't care." Keas finally looks up and right into Marceline's green eyes. "I would do it all again to meet you." Her eyes widen while her heart picks up its pace. She was not expecting that at all.

"Keas…" The name came out as a whisper. He looks down and begins playing with her fingers.

"My life has been hell. I have no happy memories that I've learned of. The only happy memories I have are with you," he states truthfully. "You are best that has happened. You are my best friend. I don't like you hurt." Marcy reaches across and places her other hand on top of his.

"Having you with me makes me so happy, Keas. You're my best friend, too. With you around I know I'll never get hurt and you have no idea how thankful I am of you." Keas slowly starts to smile. "You've been in my life longer than anyone else I have met and I'm glad it was you. You are the kindest and most considerate person I have ever met." Marcy gets up and moves to his side of the cart causing it to tilt slightly from the weight change. Not once does she remove her hands. "You've always found some way to help someone. You saved that puppy from the river when you were 11 even though you got punished by your dad for jumping in. You took the blame for your friend who egged your middle school teacher's car. You got your first detention for defending a boy who was being picked on in 4th grade. And yes, you ended up in jail for saving a girl from getting raped. But you were never doing anything wrong, Keas; you were being selfless and brave and heroic. It proves that even with amnesia you are still the same person you always were."

Keas' heart feels as if it has stopped. Never had he viewed his past that way; he had always lingered on the repercussions of his actions. After gaining his memories through his dreams he can remember each bruise, every hit he has received for doing something an "adult" deemed wrong. He never thought of any of the other factors such as defending friends or saving someone. A light, gentle touch to his cheek practically restarts his heart and snaps him from his thoughts. He looks to Marcy's gently smiling face.

"Don't pay attention to strangers' words. They are simply making assumptions. The only opinions that matter are from close friends and especially yourself. And in my opinion?" Marcy's smile widens. "If I had to choose between having you or the rest of the world beside me, I would choose you every time, hands down."

In a swift motion Keas releases her hand and pulls her to his chest tightly. One arm is wrapped around her lower back and is pinning her arm down. His right is around her shoulder with his hand resting at the back of her neck. From there he leans down and places a soft, lingering kiss upon her forehead. Marcy's eyes are stuck wide, a hot blush rushing to overcome her entire face. Her heartbeat quickens more and more the longer the kiss lasts. Finally he leans away and looks down at her, then rests his forehead against hers. "Thank you." Marcy's overwhelmed expression relaxes into a light smile and she wraps her free arm around him in return.

"Of course." They stay like that for a while before Keas pulls away first. Their eyes meet, and Keas takes note of the lingering blush on her cheeks. Marceline, however, notices the sunset behind him. She raises her hand in a wave to the ferris wheel operator as they near the bottom. "Come on; let's go check out our new apartment."


	4. Chapter 3

The following morning, Keas and Marcy return to their apartment after a night in a hotel. Each of them have on a gas mask along with a bucket full of cleaning equipment: scrub brushes, sponges, paper towel, cleaning rags, heavy duty cleaning gloves, a small fan for ventilation, and 4 gallons of bleach carried by Keas. Blood is completely covering almost every inch of the small apartment. "Man, it's no wonder we're renting this place for cheap," Marceline comments. "Aren't the police supposed to clean the crime scene after they gather all the evidence?" she asks aloud. She begins her work at one of the windows. Once it's done she opens it for some fresh air. Keas sets up the small fan to blow into the room and they both remove their gas masks. He then starts scrubbing the kitchen counters, saving the floor for last.

"I like blood baths, but not in our home," Keas mumbles. Marcy overhears and bursts into laughter, her hand coming up to touch her forehead. Horror instantly overcomes her at the wet sensation now on her skin. Keas cracks up at her expression. He treads carefully over to her while trying not to step on the cleaning supplies. He uses a clean rag to wipe her forehead. "There. Much better." Marcy gives him a sheepish smile, a light blush trying to dust her cheeks.

"Thanks, Keas." After that kiss to her forehead last night Marcy can't stop thinking about it. Keas had never done anything of the sort before. A thought gives her pause, her hand becoming still on the second window. _How long had Keas thought of doing that? Or was it a spontaneous moment based on our situation?_ She's not sure which one she would like it to be. Marcy's known him for years now, but sometimes she has no idea what he's thinking.

Keas notices how still Marcy has become so he works his way over again and places his hand on her shoulder. She jumps at the sudden touch. "Are you ok?" he asks. Marcy gives him another sheepish smile. She brings her hand up and rubs the back of her neck.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just got lost in thought, I guess," she responds. When she pulls her hand away from her neck her eyes widen at the red liquid on her glove. "Damn it!" she grumbles. Keas can't help but let out a laugh. "Oh, you think that's funny?" She swipes her hand across the bloodied table and flicks the blood at Keas, getting red splattered on his black hoodie. He raises his brow as if asking her if she's serious. Marcy responds with a mischievous smirk and off they both go, throwing blood at one another in a frenzy. Blood is flying everywhere and covers both of them in various places from head to toe. Marcy was smart enough to wear a red shirt and dark blue jeans so the stains won't show so well, but Keas' white shoes and light blue jeans aren't so lucky. Neither of them seems to care about the mess as they continue, laughter filling the whole apartment. At this point they both don't have a care in the world.

Unfortunately like most things the fun must come to an end. Marcy's phone starts playing "With Every Heartbeat" by Robyn so she takes off her gloves and fishes it out of her purse by the door. She doesn't recognize the unknown number, but she answers it with a "hello?" anyways. "Marcy speaking."

"Yo, it's me, Franklin. Does your offer still stand?" she hears the familiar voice on the other side. Marcy feels a touch on her cheek. She moves her eyes to the right to see Keas with a rag in his hand. She can guess he's cleaning her face of the blood.

"What did you do this time?" she can't help but ask, a smile tugging at her lips. She hears him sigh on the other side.

"I'm with a friend and he's driving. Recklessly. We got cops behind us and we can't shake them," he responds. Now that he's mentioned it Marcy can faintly hear police sirens in the background. The sound of gunshots makes her pull the phone away from her ear.

"Die you wastes of meat sacks!" she hears a disgruntled man shout. That must be the "friend."

"Where you at?" Franklin asks. Marcy raises a brow at the poor sentence structure.

"That depends on where you are?" she replies. She can hear a faint groan of irritation and lets out a chuckle of her own. "Sorry, that was rude. We're at our apartment by Vespucci beach."

"Well shit, we're headed toward Sandy Shores." Marcy raises a brow; she doesn't know where that's at. "We're going the opposite way," he clarifies after her pause.

"Then just turn around. We'll meet you by the festival with a boat. We can hide out on the water," Marcy tells him.

"Good idea. Call me when you have a boat and a location," he responds.

She grins wide. "Sure thing, friend. Stay alive." She hangs up and quickly turns to Keas. He jumps back from her quick movements and raises his hands up, a slightly bloodied cloth in his right hand. She notices that he's wiped his face clean as well. "Time to get going, Keas! I'll get my swim suit and a boat," she tells him as she makes her way to the bedroom. Keas stands there for a couple seconds before following her.

"I'll get changed, too."

At the bed of a gloss black Vapid Sandking SWB is a blond man in orange swim trunks. He stands there blatantly admiring some of the gorgeous young ladies closer to the water. He doesn't say anything; he's just leaning against the side with his arms crossed hoping his muscles will bring in the ladies instead. He has suffered through high school being overweight and has finally worked hard enough to become better than just fit. Hooked to the back of the truck is a beautiful white speedboat on a trailer. If only his muscle doesn't work, he hopes the boat will give him better chances. He's always wanted to be approached by a woman first.

Unfortunately for him, he's been standing there for well over an hour; the young ladies showed up after him and have begun to wonder why his boat isn't in the water yet. A few have started getting kind of freaked out by him just staring at them and have begun packing up. He begins to give up and starts turning to climb in the truck when he catches sight of a woman walking toward him. Her auburn hair stands out against the bleached beach sand. His gaze glides down her frame, taking note of how her pale green bikini top fits her just right. He spots a touch of the green poking out from underneath her dark blue jean shorts that end just a couple inches above her kneecaps. As she grows closer he can see how her toned muscles raise slightly with each step she takes. He watches as a 'Nightmare Before Christmas' keychain bounces with each movement of her hips. Finally she looks his way, and he spots the way her smile reaches her slightly pale green eyes. He feels his heart skip a beat when she starts making her way to him. He's shocked. He was so sure by this point that no one would approach him, let alone a beautiful woman like her.

The woman stops in front of him, a bright smile still on her pale pink lips. "Hello, do you live around here?" she asks, tilting her head to her right a bit. The man raises his eyes from her pink bellybutton piercing to meet her eyes.

"Uh, yes, I do. Why do you ask?" he blubbers out messily. She covers a chuckle with her manicured hand.

"You see," she starts, laying a hand on her hip, "I'm here on vacation and have missed my boat back at home. Is there any way I can take a ride in yours?" He looks up from her breasts when he notices she wasn't speaking anymore. He realizes that she's a few inches taller than him.

"Wah, uh… Yeah! Yeah, I can give you a ride! O-on my boat!" He stumbles over himself trying to figure out where to go first. He points to the cab of the truck dumbly with a sheepish smile. "I'll get it in the water," he mutters. The woman lets out another covered chuckle.

"You do that."

After a clumsy first time launching the boat the man and woman are now finally out in the open water. A strange silence remains between the two. He is a nervous awkward mess while she seems perfectly calm. After a few minutes he works up the courage to speak after shutting off the engine.

"So, uh… I never caught your name?" he tries to speak calmly. He sees her smile, but she doesn't turn towards him from the passenger seat.

"You can call me Marcy," she responds. "What about you? What's your name?" He finds himself relax a bit knowing she was willing to talk with him.

"I'm Blake. Black Aldridge," he tells her with a smile. He notices her smile grow a little sad when she stands up and he loses his. Marcy moves to stand next to him, and then places her hand on his shoulder.

"Listen, Blake Aldridge; I'm going to be honest here. I only went up to you because you have a boat, but you seem like a really nice guy." Blake smiles a bit, but it falls quickly after her next sentence. "But I only need the boat." She reaches into her purse and pulls out her heavy pistol. Fear overtakes Blake. She doesn't point it at him, though; she just holds it in her hand. "Now don't get me wrong here, Blake. I don't plan to shoot you, and I don't want to hurt you. But my friends need my help and to do that I need a boat. Unfortunately for you, yours was the first boat I came across." She pats his shoulder once. "So this is where you need to make a decision. It can go one of two ways. Either you can swim back to shore and let me take the boat for a few hours, or you can stay here and join me with my three criminal friends," she tells him calmly. "Oh, and if you call the cops we will kill you." His eyes grow wide and he sits there for a short time, debating his options. Coming to a decision he looks up at her.

"Will I get my boat back?" he asks. He wasn't a daddy's boy; he worked hard to save up the money for this boat. Marcy grins and pats his shoulder again.

"Sure thing. After the heat dies down I'll return it to you here, I promise." Blake sighs and reluctantly stands up from the captain's chair. A woman finally approaches him and she's stealing his boat. How did he not see this coming?

Marcy gives him a sad smile as he jumps off the boat and heads to shore. She feels bad for taking it from a nice guy, but her new friend is in danger and she said she would help. She climbs into the captain's chair and heads to the end of Del Perro. After pulling out her phone she dials Franklin's now saved number.

"Hey Marce, you got the boat?" she hears Franklin's voice ask. She scrunches her nose at the nickname; she absolutely hates being called 'Marce.'

"Yeah, I'm almost at the end of the pier now. Keas is up top with his shotgun to give you guys some cover while you come down to the boat. And uh, don't call me 'Marce' again. Just Marcy," she responds. "Are you guys close?"

"We're just about to get off Del Perro Freeway near Backlot City. We'll be there in at least 5 minutes," he answers. Her mind goes black for a moment. She really needs to learn the layout of this city.

"Alright, sounds good. I'll be here," she replies. _Please let everyone be alive at the end of this._

"Was that her?" Trevor asks over the sound of the sirens. Franklin pockets his phone before pulling out a submachine gun.

"Yeah, they're ready for us. Her boy's gonna give us some cover," he replies. He sticks the gun out the window and opens fire on the cops. He blows out the front tire of one cruiser, but the cop is persistent and continues chasing him while riding on the rim. "Damn," he mutters.

Trevor raises a brow at Franklin. He had only mentioned that he had a friend that could help them out and nothing more. He's not sure what to expect now knowing there's a couple waiting for them. His perverted mind seems to take over playing a scene with a stereotypical blonde beach slut and a man that closely resembles Lamar for some reason.

Franklin grips the steering wheel and pulls it towards himself so they turn onto the pier. Trevor snaps out of his growing disturbing thoughts and growls at Franklin. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he shouts.

"You're gonna drive off the pier! Punch the fucking breaks!" Franklin shouts back. Trevor spots the end of the pier growing closer and hits the breaks while jerking the wheels to the left. The car turns sideways and stops just before hitting the man standing at the edge of the pier. The tall pale man lifts his long barrel shotgun and rests it on the roof of the car. Franklin climbs out first so Trevor can climb over and come out the passenger side. Franklin gives the bright redhead a smile. "Thanks for the help, Keas," he tells him. Keas glances to Franklin briefly before turning his attention back to the incoming police cars.

"You keep Marcy safe," he replies. Franklin nods in response just as Trevor climbs out of the car. He eyes Keas' over 6 foot frame, taking note of the younger man's strong physique. Franklin pats Trevor's shoulder.

"Come on, Marcy's waiting." He jumps from the edge and dives down into the water below. When Trevor looks back to Keas he spots the police climbing out of the five vehicles. Keas fires both shots, hitting two men square in their faces. The police open fire on him and he takes cover just after a bullet grazes his shoulder. Trevor looks between Keas and the boat below.

"Fuck!" he shouts, holding the 'F' longer in frustration. He pulls out a pistol as he also takes cover near the front of the car. He groans in irritation and switches his weapon out for an advanced rifle. He hears a few pistols run out in their clips. As the cops reload Trevor and Keas take aim and fire. Keas gets off both shots of his double barrel, killing two more. Trevor takes out three and injures one in the leg. They duck down behind the car again to reload. "Nice shooting," Trevor subconsciously compliments. Keas turns to him and smiles, catching Trevor off guard. The smile is a lot more innocent than what he expected.

"Not bad yourself," Keas compliments in return. He jerks his gun up to snap it back into place before standing up and taking aim again. As Trevor goes to stand, he notices the customized hatchet strapped to Keas' bare back and the fact his blue swim trunks have little yellow rubber duckies on them. He feels himself grin as he takes aim at another cop while more police cars pull up. He has a feeling this is going to be fun.

Franklin climbs into the speedboat himself and gets the floor wet with his soaked clothing. Marcy hands him a towel she found beneath the bench seat along the driver's side of the boat. While she was waiting she decided to take a look around the storage areas of the boat to see what she would have on hand. She found five hundred dollars in the little glove box in front of the passenger seat, along with a pack of cigarettes with 6 joints rolled inside. The bench seat on the driver's side has life jackets and a first aid kit as well.

"Thanks," Franklin says. He takes a seat in the passenger chair to her left. Marcy waves her hand dismissively like before.

"It's really no trouble at all. Cleaning my apartment can always wait until later on. How did you get the police after you, anyway?" she asks. She crosses her right leg over her left and rests her elbow on her knee. From there she puts her chin on top of the fist she made. Franklin scratches his head a bit.

"Well, my uh… friend Trevor was driving and this guy walked out onto the road, which made us stop. Trevor and he got in a yelling match because of it, and then Trevor got pissed and ran him over. A lady saw the whole thing and called the cops. From there it just kind of escalated," he explains. Marcy tries to stifle her laughter, but she can't seem to stop herself and lets out a hearty laugh. "What's so funny?" She tries to calm herself down.

"I'm sorry. Something similar happened to me a while back, but I was able to lose them before it got this bad. Maybe next time you should drive," she suggests. He rolls his eyes but smiles.

"Yeah, no kidding," he mutters. The sound of an explosion has both of them looking up at the pier. Two adult-size figures fall from the pier, one of them laughing all the way into the water. The two people swim to the boat side by side and climb up simultaneously. Marcy eyes the unfamiliar man, but hands him a towel nonetheless. "Good to see you two alive," Franklin speaks up. "What was that explosion?"

Trevor's eyes follow the woman as she drapes a towel over Keas' shoulders. He takes in her appearance and doesn't miss the silent, friendly smile passed between the two. He connects the dots that this must be the woman Marcy who was mentioned earlier and the friend Franklin called for help. He turns to Franklin while lifting his right hand, a sticky bomb balanced in the palm. He glances back to the pair of friends. "It was Keas' idea," he explains. When Franklin sits in the driver's seat everyone else sits on the bench seats, the couple directly behind him. Franklin starts the engine and pushes the throttle open, speeding away from the fiery pier. Trevor eyes the odd couple, his gaze shifting between the two. "So," he begins loudly to draw their attention, "how did you meet our mutual friend here?" he asks, gesturing towards the driver. Marcy gives him a grin.

"He was being chased by some bikers near the airport. After I stole a car to head into town Franklin came along and stole it to get away from the bikers. So Keas and I hijacked a truck and went after them. After getting rid of his pursuers we talked." She shrugs casually. "I understood his position and let it slide, and then I offered my help at a later date. Turns out it was today," she finishes. She told Keas the outcome of their escapade at the hotel, but he still paid full attention to her as she spoke. She gestures to Trevor then to Franklin on her right. "What about you two?" she asks. She notices Trevor's face scrunch up. Franklin glances over his shoulder at her briefly.

"A mutual friend," he replies first. Keas looks between the two while Marcy raises an eyebrow. Trevor points at Franklin, the rest of his fingers are clenched tightly.

"I wouldn't call that fucker a friend," he speaks up. He turns back to Marcy and says, "More like a mutual colleague." Marcy nods in understanding; it's obviously very complicated.

After silence falls among the group they slowly begin to hear a faint noise growing louder by the minute. _Wub wub wub wub._ The three sitting in the back begin turning around before spotting the helicopter headed towards them with "SQUAD" on the side. Keas instinctively grab his shotgun, although he wishes he had an assault rifle instead. Trevor smirks and pulls out an RPG. Keas and Marcy become owl-eyed at the sight.

"I got this," he says simply. He shoulders the weapon, takes aim, and fires before the helicopter gets a chance to take a shot. In a loud fiery explosion the helicopter falls to the water. However, they still hear the sound of the blades turning as if nothing happened. Franklin turns to his right and sees another incoming chopper.

"Shit!" he shouts. He pushes the throttle open fully to dodge the machine guns bullets.

"Woah!" Marcy squeaks out. The force pushes her back, but Keas wraps his arms around her to ensure she stays on the boat. "Trevor, do you have any more rockets?" Marcy yells over to him. The stressed "shit" she hears obviously means "no," so she reaches back into her shouldered purse and grabs her heavy pistol again. Trevor takes his advanced rifle out again and they both begin firing at the helicopter. Trevor is able to take out one of the cops riding in the back, but he also gets hit in the shoulder.

Franklin turns the boat to the left so the helicopter has to change coarse as well and follow behind them. A police boat sees the commotion and takes off from their spot near shore. They catch up enough to be a bit behind the helicopter. "I have rockets!" Franklin yells over all the noise. "Someone take over driving!" Marcy wastes no time. She hands her gun to Keas who then continues on the offensive. She makes it to Franklin unharmed and they expertly switch positions; she remains standing to see further out on the water. He quickly takes out his RPG and Marcy wonders where he kept it at. He tries to take aim, but the choppy water makes it very difficult to stay still.

"Take the fucking shot!" Trevor yells at him. Franklin fires. The pilot tries to move out of the way, but the rocket hits the tail anyway. He loses control of the craft and it starts coming down slowly. Despite desperate attempts to land in the water, the helicopter crashes into the following police speed boat anyway. The collision creates a huge explosion making all the occupants of the white speed boat to be propelled toward the front. Marcy smashes into the steering column, the wheel jabbing her ribs just below her breasts. Her forehead hits the top of the leaning windshield thanks to her standing height. She can feel liquid drip down next to her right eye and can assume it made a cut. Despite her dizziness she continues to navigate the boat away from any more possible pursuers.

After driving at full throttle for a while Marceline sees the San Chianski Mountain Range grow closer on the GPS. No more police were after them now so Marcy slows the boat down until it comes to a stop. She cuts the engine and turns to see how the others are doing. Franklin is on the ground, his RPG nowhere in sight and a hand gripping the passenger seat to keep steady. She looks him over a bit and feels relief to see no signs of blood. Trevor, however, is clutching his left shoulder where blood is still seeping out of the bullet wound, although it doesn't appear to be flowing as bad as it was at first. She also sees blood on his thigh, but she's not sure if he's injured there or if it's just from his shoulder. Finally she turns to her left to take a look at Keas and she can't believe her eyes. He's completely uninjured save for the graze on his right shoulder that he gained prior to rejoining her. It's very rare for him to come out with little to no injuries when they go into a dangerous situation.

Keas spots Marceline's gaze on him and offers her a smile. She smiles in return. "Are you ok, Marcy?" he asks her. Subconsciously her hand comes up and touches the cut on her right temple. The blood has already stopped flowing, but what has already come out still remains on the side of her face.

"I think I'll be ok. I just got a little banged up from the explosion," she responds. A dull but painful ache squeezes at her lower ribs when she talks. She'll have to take a look at that later; she has a more pressing injury to tend to. "I need you to stand for a bit, though, Keas." He does as told and Marcy lifts the seat to get to the storage below. She grabs the first aid kit inside and puts the seat back in place. Franklin and Keas watch her as she makes her way over to Trevor. He doesn't notice her until she takes a seat to his left. He turns to her with a raised brow. "Take off your shirt," she says simply to limit her own pain. Trevor's other eyebrow joins his right one, his hand falling away from his shoulder.

"Look sugar tits, I know you want to thank me for saving your life, but I prefer not having an audience," he responds with a coy smile. Marcy's right eye twitches slightly. Keas stands from his seat, but a raised hand by Marcy makes him reluctantly sit back down with her gun still in his hand. Marcy puts her rights hand on Trevor's shoulder; places her thumb over his wound; and presses into it as hard as she can, her thumb going inside the hole. Trevor yelps in pain and tries to jerk his shoulder away, but her grip is tight with her nails digging into his skin.

"Do **not** call me 'sugar tits,' do you understand?" she says loudly despite the pain. She lets go of him and he instantly covers his shoulder with his hand again. "I came over to patch you up so you don't bleed all over the boat. Now accept the fucking help and take your damn shirt off." Trevor shoots her a glare, and she happily gives it right back. Electricity seems to fly between the two. Trevor looks away first to look at Franklin for a bit of help. Upon meeting his glare Franklin throws his hands up as a sign that he's staying out of this one. Trevor then looks at Keas. He's leaning forward in his seat with his left elbow resting on his knee. His tomahawk is lying on the seat next to him with his right hand placed loosely on the handle. In his left hand he holds Marcy's pistol between his legs, his twitching trigger finger resting along the side of the gun. Trevor looks back to Marcy, his glare met with a cocky smirk. He lets out a low growl but proceeds to take off his blue shirt. He hisses in pain once he gets to his shoulder.

Gentle hands take the fabric from him and carefully pull it away from the wound before moving the shirt down his arm. Trevor watches Marcy carefully as she does so in case she tries anything funny again. Marcy does no such thing. She slowly and tenderly touches around the wound, taking note of the spots with any discoloration. His face scrunches up a few times but he doesn't make any audible complaints. She checks the back of his shoulder and shakes her head.

"There's no exit wound, so the bullet is definitely still inside. It's appears to be stopping some of the bleeding right now, so I don't want to take it out right here. I'm going to put a temporary bandage around it and rinse it out so it doesn't get infected, and then I would like to remove the bullet once we're at a safer and more stable location," she finally speaks. She opens up the first aid kit and begins pulling a few things out.

"How do you know so much about wounds?" Franklin asks. Marcy simply points across the way at the redhead and continues to gather what she needs. He then turns to him. "Keas?" The redhead looks at Franklin and gives him a sheepish smile.

"I'm shot a lot when working," he says simply. Franklin nods. Yeah, he can see why that would make sense. If he went to the hospital every time he gets injured when doing a job he would get caught a lot easier.

"Thank you for your help back there, Keas. And you too, Marcy. Honestly when I called you I wasn't sure if you really were going to help," Franklin admits. Trevor yelps when Marcy dabs his wound with peroxide. She raises a brow at Franklin who is now off the ground and in the passenger seat.

"Of course we would help. We are people of our word; we never go back on an offer," she responds. She places a patch of gauze over the wound and holds it in place with some medical tape. "There. That should do it for now." Her eyes trail down to the blood stain on his pants. She still isn't sure if he was hit there as well or not. Trevor notices her gaze on his lap and smirks at her.

"If you want to look me over for more wounds I wouldn't mind back at my place, babe. But those two would have to wait outside," he says cockily. Marceline's right eye twitches harder this time. Keas stands from his seat, and this time Marcy doesn't stop him. He stomps over and grips Trevor around the throat. From there he easily lifts the shorter man from his seat just enough that his feet can't touch the ground.

"Don't speak to Marcy with disrespect," he growls out lowly. He drops Trevor back into his seat. "She didn't have to help you. She could have let you deal yourself, but she too nice for that. Be thankful next time." He leans in close, his blue eyes shaking with bloodlust. "Next time you're mean I'll throw you at cops with bombs," he threatens. He nods to Marcy before going back to his seat after she nods back.

Trevor rubs his neck, glaring at the two of them in turn. He knew saying something of the sort would cause another hostile reaction from the couple, but he wanted a better idea of who these two really are. He's come to the vague conclusion that Marcy's looks really distract you from really getting a read on her. She's nice until you call her anything other than Marcy, and she seems to know her way around dangerous situations.

Keas is even harder to read. He knows his way around a gun and has fairly good aim to boot. Not once when going against those police did he miss a shot. He's street smart based on when he suggested using bombs on the police cars to get away, but he seem to have a problem speaking correctly. Although, what stands out the most about Keas is his protectiveness towards Marcy and his imposing figure. On second thought, Trevor finds that Keas may actually be easier to understand despite his intimidating appearance.

Trevor raises his hands in defense to Keas' harsh glare and Franklin's disapproving look. "Alright, fuck. I know when to admit I'm wrong." He holds a hand out to Marcy. "I'm fucking sorry. Thank you for the help," he snaps. It doesn't sound completely sincere to her, but Marceline takes his hand for a handshake anyway.

"Apology accepted," she replies with a smile. She pulls her hand away first. Now, are you injured in your leg or is the blood just from your shoulder? With the amount that's there I can't quite tell." Trevor blinks for a second before looking at his pants and spotting the blood stain on his thigh. He mentally slaps himself. It never occurred to him that she actually _was_ checking him for other injuries when he caught her looking at his lap.

"No, just the shoulder," he responds. God he feels like an idiot.

"Wait a second, why didn't you ask if I was ok?" Franklin speaks up. She looks over sheepishly.

"Well I looked you over and didn't spot any blood so I figured you were ok enough," she replies. He crosses his arms, but he understands where she's coming from. Trevor did have the most crucial injury out of all of them. "Sorry if I made you feel left out."

"Yeah don't worry about it, it's all good," he says dismissively. "I'll get us to shore and find a ride," he states as he moves to the driver's seat.

"My place is the closest from here. We can head there for now," Trevor offers.

"Sounds like we have a plan, let's get going," Marcy replies with a grin. The hot sun shines down of the four as they make their way to Trevor's safe house. With the day only partially done, who can know for sure what will happen next with this strange group?

* * *

Hello everyone! Thank you so much for reading this. I am having so much fun writing this, and I really hope you have enjoyed it so far as well. Please let me know what you think so far and review. It's what keeps me motivated to work on this, otherwise I get caught up with other things. Thanks again!

-Jen


	5. Chapter 4

In the blistering summer heat if Sandy Shores groans of agony ring out from a small trailer near the edge of town. A simple tan Karin Rebel truck sits just outside the garage of the quaint property. Franklin stands outside on the small porch; he decided the heat was much better than watching a bullet be removed from Trevor's shoulder. Keas stands leaning against the kitchen counter with the first aid kit sitting next to him. He's no good with fixing injuries since he's more used to creating them, but he's been giving Marceline anything she asks for from the small box.

"Fucking hell," Trevor yells out. Marcy holds a towel below the wound to catch the blood-tainted alcohol running from it.

"Oh calm down, you big wuss. The hard part's over," she chastises him. "Gauze and tape, please." She holds her hand out to Keas who happily gives her the items. As she patches up Trevor's shoulder she grumbles. "My goodness. I've never had to work on someone who complains so damn much," she says lowly. Trevor shoots her a glare.

"Well if you were a bit more gentle like a real woman than it wouldn't be a fucking problem!" he barks back. Marceline stops what she's doing and slowly lifts her head to look at him, her green eyes narrowed dangerously. Trevor quickly raises his hands in defense. "Sorry; pain talking," he says hurriedly. She lowers her gaze and continues to patch him up in silence. Trevor sighs. He really doesn't need her to death grip his junk like she had earlier when he called her a bitch. He's learned that name-calling right now is limited to Franklin, and it's driving his impulsive nature insane.

Marcy works slower and gentler now that Trevor complained about it, which he notices. She's so used to working solely on Keas' wounds for so long that she forgot others don't have such a high pain tolerance. She puts on the last bit of tape and sits back. "There. That should do it," she says with a pleased smile on her lips. "If you need help changing the patch or notice any worse discoloration that isn't already there then give me a call." Trevor moves his shoulder around a bit to stretch it out. "Most of the bleeding has stopped so it should be fine."

"Are you done?" Franklin asks from the other side of the screen door. Keas moves to the door and nods before opening it for him to come inside. Frank walks in while wiping sweat from his brow. "Thank god. It's hot as fuck outside," he complains. Marcy lifts her hands with a shrug.

"Well, dry sandy places usually end up being hot," she retorts. Franklin rolls his eyes while Keas and Trevor chuckle.

"She's got you there," Keas speaks up. He feels relief when Marcy grins and Franklin cracks a smile at him. He's never sure when it's appropriate for him to speak up, so most times he stays silent and lets Marcy do the talking. Having someone as understanding as Franklin around is helping his confidence in speaking around others. While Marcy was working on Trevor's shoulder, Keas and Franklin spent most of the time talking at the door.

Marcy grabs a bandage wrap and hands it to Trevor. "Wrap this around the patch when you're out and about to help keep it on," she explains when he gives her an odd look.

"That would be all the time," Franklin retorts. "He's always gotta be doing something." Trevor wants to deny it, but he can't bring himself to since he knows it's true. He's almost never home now except to rest, heal up, or change clothes.

Marcy walks up to Keas, places a hand lightly on his bicep, and turns back to Trevor. "Well, as much fun as this all was, we really should get-"

"Trevor!" a male voice calls out from outside, cutting her off. A man donning a tan hat and large glasses comes up to the door. "Trevor, you're here!" he shouts excitedly, relief evident on his face. "I have news." Trevor's expression instantly turns to one of irritation.

"What is it now, Ron?" he asks roughly, his voice scratching a bit. Marcy raises an eyebrow at the exchange but stays silent, choosing to stay out of this for the moment. Ron nervously pushes his glasses further onto his nose.

"I've been listening to the radio like you said and I heard news of a group coming here to wipe out Trevor Phillips Enterprises," he explains. Trevor stands quickly.

"Who the fuck thinks they can wipe me out, huh?" he shouts, his face red with anger. Marcy pushes Trevor back onto the couch before sitting next to him. Before he has a chance to snap at her, she takes the bandage wrap from his hand and begins wrapping his shoulder in silence. Ron, startled by how calm Trevor appears after being literally pushed around, stays quiet longer than he should have. "Ron!" Trevor snaps out, the redness of his face coming back and travelling down his neck. Ron jumps from his stupor.

"R-right," he stutters. "They're knows as the 'Deadly Duo,' Alice and Kal Cross. They were last seen headed this way about five minutes ago from Paleto Bay. Apparently they have 4 vans accompanying them," Ron explains. Keas and Marcy share a knowing look that Franklin happens to catch.

"What's with the look, you two?" he asks, catching Trevor and Ron's attention as well. "Do you know these two?" Marcy and Keas share another silent look until Keas nods. Marcy sighs.

"Possibly, although that's not their real names," she replies. Franklin raises a brow at her.

"Then who are they?" Ron asks. Marcy purses her lips.

"I can't know for sure until I see them," she answers carefully. She finishes with the bandage and sits up straight. "Ron, what kind of vehicle are they in?" she asks. Nervously he fiddles with the radio strapped around his neck.

"W-well, uh… Let's see… Um…" he stammers messily. Trevor's face starts turning red again. Just as he opens his mouth to snap at Ron, Marcy slaps a hand on his injured shoulder, making him yell out in pain. He turns to yell at her, his eyes narrowed dangerously, but Ron speaks up before he can. "That's right! It was a dark blue and tan Dundreary Regina!" he speaks loudly. Franklin furrows his eyebrows while Marcy scrunches up her face in disgust.

"You mean that 4-person white family vacation station wagon from the 80's? Why the hell would they take that?" Franklin asks. "Shit. I don't know who this 'Deadly Duo' is but with a title like that they sure as hell wouldn't drive that." Everyone but Ron nods in agreement. With a clap of her hands Marcy stands with a grin.

"So what are we waiting for? I know you guys aren't the types to sit around waiting for them to come to us. Let's teach these guys not to mess with Trevor Phillips and his friends shall we?" she asks cheerfully. Trevor stands as well, a sick grin on his face.

"Hell yeah! Let's get going," he declares. He pushes his way past everyone and goes out the door. Franklin scoffs but smiles.

"See Keas? He's always gotta do something," Frank says, lightly tapping Keas' shoulder as he heads out of the trailer. Keas grins after him and follows him out. Ron holds the door open for Marcy.

"Why thank you, Ron," she says with a kind smile. "Would you mind staying close by and keeping us updated? It would be nice to know if they get here before we meet up with them," she requests. Trevor climbs into the single cab of the truck, and then Franklin and Keas sit in the bed leaving the passenger seat for Marcy. Ron readjusts his glasses with shaking hands as they make their way into the yard.

"Y-yeah, I can do that. I'll text Trevor if I hear anything," he answers. Marcy's smile softens and Ron's features relax a bit as a result.

"Thank you again." Trevor smacks the side of the truck loudly.

"Hurry the fuck up!" he shouts. Marcy shoots him a glare.

"Shut up, Trevor! I'm coming!" she yells back. She turns back to Ron with another smile. "May we meet again." She hurries to the truck and climbs in, placing her purse between Trevor and herself. Trevor starts the engine and quickly takes off down the road. He glances over to her, his eyes trailing down to watch how her chest moves in her bikini top with each bump they go over. He discreetly wets his lips, focusing back onto the path ahead of him.

"About fucking time," he mutters out. Marcy scoffs but other than that she says nothing. The deafening silence bothers Trevor, and it is very hard to accomplish that. The whole ride back to his trailer she was yammering away in the bed with Keas, but up here with him is completely different. He's not sure exactly what it means, but he'll be sure to keep an eye on her in the meantime. "So, who is this 'Deadly Duo,' anyway?" he asks; but Marcy stays silent, lost in her own thoughts.

 _When I get my hands on those two, they're going to wish they had never met me,_ she grumbles in her mind. Despite the happy front put on to help Ron relax she is absolutely pissed. She feels someone touch her stomach and she reacts quickly, grabbing the person's hand and twisting it painfully.

"Chill the fuck out; it's just me," Trevor growls out at her. She quickly lets him go and rubs her neck in embarrassment.

"Sorry Trevor. You just caught me off guard," she responds sheepishly. He scoffs and eyes her a bit before looking forward.

"Your bruise doesn't look too good there," he speaks up after a while. She looks down, spotting the purple and brown discolored skin just below her chest. She places a hand lightly over it and presses in at a couple places to feel for anything that could be broken. After finding no sharp pains she moves her arm across the bruise and keeps it there, almost like she was hiding it from him.

"It's not too bad. Most of the pain has faded so I honestly forgot it was there. I was so focused on getting you better that I forgot to check on myself," she admits. Trevor's gaze softens just a tad to where Marcy doesn't take notice. "I'll be sure to put some ointment on it when I get back to my bloody apartment." Trevor gives her and inquisitive look at her wording.

"Bloody?" he repeats. Marcy cracks a smile.

"Yeah. We got this apartment near the beach for really cheap. It's an upstairs apartment with this little parking spot beneath it. But when we got there yesterday it was covered in blood. It was like one or more people were murdered and after the police took what they needed from the crime scene they just left the mess. What kinds of cops do that?" Marcy shakes her head. "What happened in there?" she ponders aloud. Trevor swallows hard and furrows his brows, his eyes focused on the road.

"The lady was a cunt and her stupid boyfriend was a little bitch," he grumbles out. Marcy turns to him slowly, wide eyed.

"Wait a second, did you kill them?" she asks loudly in astonishment. She didn't think she would ever know for sure what happened in the apartment.

"Hey, the cunt held a gun at me. It was clearly self-defense," he responds indignantly. Marcy raises her hands.

"I'm not here to judge. I just find it funny that I actually got to meet the person who did it without even meaning to," she replies with a smile. "So what happened? Did you sleep with the girlfriend and the guy walked in on you or something?" she asks, genuinely curious. Trevor chuckles at her inquiry.

"No, I was working with the dude and staying there while the girlfriend was away. She wanted me to leave and I may or may not have suggested having a three-way to patch things up and get rid of any misunderstanding. She pulled a gun on me and I just kind of snapped," he explains. He pauses for a moment and wonders why he's even telling her this, but decides to shrug it off. "After that I forcefully took over the strip club business." Marcy grins at the crazy man.

"So there really is a strip joint here? I'll have to check it out with Keas sometime," she comments. She turns her attention to the front windshield and sees an incoming station wagon, its luggage carrier full on top of the vehicle. "Oh hey, isn't that a Dundreary Regina coming up? It looks like it's the correct color scheme. I wonder if that's the one?" she questions, pointing ahead at the car. Trevor shoots a smirk her way.

"Well, let's find out," he responds. He pushes on the gas and swerves into the left lane, going at the car head-on. Marcy hurriedly warns the two in the bed what will happen so they don't go flying unexpectedly.

"Well shit," Franklin grumbles, glaring at the back of Trevor's head. He holds on to whatever he can as tightly as possible. Keas, however, stands in a crouch with his tomahawk in his right hand, his eyes narrowed dangerously. The driver of the Regina tries to swerve away onto the dirt, but Trevor follows their movement at the last minute and the hoods of the vehicles meet.

Keas leaps high and goes over the cab of the truck with a loud roar. He clears the hoods and comes down on the dark blue and tan car, his weapon embedding into the roof and coming within inches of the driver's skull. The driver stares shakily at the blade, not daring to move their head. The passenger pulls out a gun and goes to shoot at Keas through the windshield, but he saw the gleam of the gun in time to jump out of the way while pulling his weapon free. Marcy and the passenger get out of the vehicles at the same time. Marceline's eyes narrow into a glare at the Asian man after recognizing him, although he can't seem to place where he's seen her before.

A black van pulls up next to the Regina and three people step out. Two more vans arrive shortly after and park behind the dual toned car, three people coming out of the van to Marcy's right and four stepping out from the one behind the Regina. Keas stands on the trunk of the car with his sharp weapon in his right hand and his pistol in his left. He eyes the men to find their weaknesses and vulnerable spots. He looks back at Marcy briefly, just long enough to see her grin evilly.

"Ok Keas," she speaks loud, "time for a bath." Franklin gives her a strange look. What the hell is that supposed to mean? That's when he notices Keas' flexed position and sees how his hands are shaking,

Keas moves quickly, his eyes now shaking with bloodlust. He throws the tomahawk at the closest man to his right, slicing clean into his chest. He leaps off the car and kicks the man down then lands on top of him. He shoots him in the head while pulling his weapon out of the body. A blond goon shoots but misses when Keas ducks behind the front of the van furthest to the right. The brunette driver of the van shoots next but has horrible aim and the bullet misses Keas completely. Keas shoots her in the leg so she slumps to the ground. He crouches along the van to her to avoid the other foes' bullets before bashing in her skull with the diamond shaped point on the back of the tomahawk. Blood splatters onto his face but it doesn't deter him from continuing his assault.

The 5'5" Asian man takes aim at the redhead, but a bullet grazing his ear stops him from taking the shot. He looks back to the tan truck to find the three others all pointing their guns at him. Marcy smirks, a bit of smoke coming from the barrel of her heavy pistol. "Your fight is with us, Ikeda," she says calmly. He smirks, leveling his submachine gun at her.

"I don't know who you are bitch, but I assure you that you won't win," he replies cockily. His ego deflates when Trevor shoots him in the thigh and Franklin hits his side.

"Don't fucking call her a bitch," Trevor tells him angrily. He ducks behind the door when Ikeda opens fire at him. Another van arrives, five more people stepping out and they open fire on the three friends. Marcy takes out a man and a woman, one shot in the chest a few times and the other once in the head. Trevor focuses his shots at Ikeda, but he stays hidden behind the car to avoid getting more injuries. Franklin uses a carbine rifle against the goons, taking out two more of his own. That's when Marceline notices the driver of the Regina try to sneak out of their seat. As soon as she has a clear shot of the person's ankle she takes the shot. The driver lets out a high pitched scream in pain, collapses to the ground, and lightly cradles the destroyed joint while sobbing.

Marcy takes a moment to take in their appearance. It's a short woman with skinny limbs and physique. Her blonde hair is extremely long, coming down to her elbows; her brown eyes are closed in pain while her pale pink lips are in a scowl. Marcy feels her blood boiling. Subconsciously she makes her way to the woman. Ikeda sees her going after her and comes out to hopefully kill her, but Trevor's bullet hits his left hand so he can no longer use it to balance the gun. Ikeda growls while Trevor smirks cockily.

Keas takes out his seventh person and shortly after shoots his eighth in the head. He moves to the next when he sees them take aim at Marcy. The whites of his eyes grow red as his anger builds rapidly. He tackles the blond just as he pulls the trigger. The bullet goes into his gut and embeds itself into his muscles, but it doesn't hinder his movements one bit. He wails on the blond's face with his bare hands, blood splattering everywhere. Even after his face is no longer recognizable and the body stops moving Keas continues his assault until Franklin tells him to move. Taking his advice Keas rolls off the corpse in time to dodge flying bullets.

Marcy makes it to the familiar blonde on the ground without any injuries. She grabs a fistful of her soft hair and yanks her up. Once she has the woman balancing unsteadily on her good foot she narrows her eyes at her, criticizing the woman. Marcy stands a good six inches taller than the 5'4" girl, and uses the height difference to her advantage. She turns the woman around and pins her arms down by wrapping her left arm around them and lifting her up below her chest. She takes out her pocketknife and holds it to the woman's throat. Ikeda takes notice and yells out for everyone to cease fire, and they all oblige.

"What do you want with us? Don't you know who we are?" Ikeda asks. He has his hands help up to show he won't attack at the moment.

"You mean this 'Deadly Duo' I keep hearing about?" Marcy asks. She chuckles lightly.

"That's Alice Cross you have there. The leader of Phoenix Inc., one of the most successful and widespread meth dealerships in the USA, and if you let her go I'm sure she will have your death be as painless as possible," he says confidently. Silence falls among the people, no one lowering their weapons. Marcy starts off chuckling quietly, but slowly she gets louder and louder until she can no longer contain it. The goons give each other nervous glances. She stops laughing abruptly and presses the knife further into the woman's neck, drawing a bit of blood. She whimpers like the coward she is.

"So I'm supposed to believe you're Kal Cross, is that right Ikeda?" she asks. Keas slowly makes his way towards her. "The legendary Kal Cross; the over 6 foot blur that has wiped out a whole room of men in less than twenty minutes with fourteen bullet wounds to various parts of his body. The Kal Cross that took down the majority of all of Alice's competition with his own hands?" Keas knocks out a goon with one hit to the back of the neck that was sneaking up to Marcy to take her by surprise. Franklin slowly realizes just where she's going with this. He's not sure if he's really all that surprised at this point. "Sorry but I refuse to believe that Janice Reynolds is Alice and that you, Ryouta Ikeda, is Kal," she says smugly. Keas finally stops to the right of Marcy. Janice spots him in her peripheral vision and whimpers louder than before.

"Oh please, Alice. Please don't kill me. It was a stupid idea," she speaks for the first time. "I-I'm so sorry," she whimpers, tears streaming down her face. "I had no idea you were here!" She openly sobs, snot starting to come out of her nose. Ikeda stares at Janice in anger and confusion for she had lied to them all and now there was only him and three others left. Marcy clicks her tongue a few times.

"Sorry Janice, but you know me. I'm not exactly the forgiving type after being betrayed," she whispers in Janice's ear. Janice wails loudly; she knows what's coming. Everyone stares on as Marcy digs her knife completely into her neck and slowly drags it across. Janice lets out one last wail before her vocal cords are sliced. She gurgles in desperation, her hands clawing at Marcy's arm to attempt a futile escape. Marcy finishes slitting her throat and continues to hold her until the body stops twitching. She throws the knife down so the blade goes into the dirt. She then throws the corpse forward so it lands lying on the hood of the station wagon. The auburn haired woman shifts her weight onto her right leg and puts her hand on her hip. Her heavy pistol still remains in her left hand, although now she has Janice's blood – and some of her own – dripping down and off the end of the gun. Keas stands next to her, blood splattered on his face and running down his torso. "Would anyone else like to defy me?" she offers. Ikeda and the two conscious goons all shake their heads. She turns to Trevor where they make eye contact. As if that look was all it took they nod simultaneously and he lifts his pistol. "It's too bad I can't leave any witnesses," she says with a sick grin.

Trevor fires and hits Ikeda in the side of his head. Franklin takes the cue to shoot the ginger goon in the chest until he's passed on as well. Marcy shoots the last conscious ruffian in the chest twice and the head once while Keas makes his way to the one he had knocked out. He then takes his tomahawk and brings it down swiftly on his neck effectively chopping his head clean off with one try. Marcy lets out a relieved sigh, her shoulders slumping a tad; although it's short lived with the furious Trevor stomping his way over. He gets right in her face; he doesn't touch her, but his nose is only a few inches from hers.

"What the fuck was that?" he growls out, a heated glare aimed down at her green eyes. Marcy sighs again, this time from fatigue.

"Can this wait until we're headed back to the trailer? I'd rather not stand around discussing my past with you while the police show up," she retorts. She moves passed him, her shoulder bumping into his. Keas follows her silently and picks up her knife on the way to the truck where he then hops in the back. Trevor goes to yell at her to get back over there, but Franklin steps in to calm him down.

"She's right. We really should get away from here first," he says calmly with his hands raised towards Trevor to further his point. Trevor grumbles but pushes him out of his way to get to the truck. "Why the hell am I always the sensible one?" he asks himself. "Fuck me." He shakes his head before climbing in the back of the truck as well. Trevor climbs back into the driver's seat and takes off back to his safehouse before Marcy has a chance to buckle in.

Marceline glances at Trevor and spots the red of his ears. She presses her lips together into a line. "So, what do you want to know first?" she asks. He glances at her with a glare.

"Who the fuck are you? Really?" he practically snarls out. Marcy lets out yet another sigh. Hopefully this doesn't become a habit.

"My name is Marceline Ann May, but Alice Cross is my alias. Keas, if you haven't figured it out yet, is known as Kal Cross," she starts. "I'm the real leader of Phoenix Inc. I founded it twelve years ago after trying to make an honest living wasn't paying the bills." Trevor nods; he can understand that.

"Why didn't you come clean when Ron mentioned your alias back at the trailer?" Franklin asks through the back window. Marcy jumps at his voice since she forgot the window was open and she didn't know he was listening. "Sorry," he mutters, but she shakes her head.

"It's ok. I wanted to keep who I really was a secret for a bit longer. If it wasn't someone I know then I wouldn't have revealed myself, but Janice did that for me. Keas and I are here on vacation, not to take over Phillips Enterprises or to start dealing around here. We chose this island to get away from all of that for a while since no one knew who we were here." She turns to look out the window. I had hoped it wouldn't follow me here, but I guess that was asking too much," she says quieter.

"We didn't mean to cause trouble," Keas speaks up. Franklin turns to look at him. "We got tired of hiding ourselves," he explains a bit further.

"Got tired of the criminal life, huh?" Frank asks. Marcy and Keas both nod.

"Back at home we could never relax. We were constantly moving about; making deals, selling meth, getting rid of competition, and expanding the business. It's constant work and in all honesty it's a lot of work. After the first few years I was getting sick of it," Marcy explains. "I didn't think I would be so successful and that I would've been caught by now, but that wasn't the case. I have enough money to live off of for the rest of my life already."

"So wait, let's backtrack for a second; who is this Janice lady to you? How did she know who you are?" Franklin asks. Trevor glances over; he had been wondering the same thing. Marcy swallows hard and looks down at her lap.

"She's an ex-girlfriend," she says.

"Of Keas?" Trevor asks. He really can't picture him as the relationship type. Keas shakes his head.

"Of Marcy," he clarifies. "They dated for few months before Janice find out. After that she wanted Marcy to spoil her. She quit good job because Marcy had job and money already. Marcy dumped her after that."

Trevor's grip tightens around the steering wheel. Seeing how tough Marcy was during the fight really put her on his good side, but hearing this seems to alter that image. Just as before his perverted mind plays a very intimate scene between the cowardly girl and the strong woman beside him.

Franklin shakes his head. He really isn't surprised at this point. "What about that Ikeda fellow?" Frank asks next. Marcy scoffs.

"He's the one Janice went to after me. She purposefully brought him to this café down the street from one of my labs so I would have to see them together when I went to check on that one. I know because she would try to text me about it, too," she says with a scowl. Janice had been the first and only person she tried having a romantic relationship with, which was an obvious mistake on her part. She no doubt chose the wrong person.

"Well that explains why you looked so pissed when you saw them," Franklin states. "And don't worry about a thing; Trevor and I are good at keeping secrets. No one will know who you are unless you want them to. He gives her a smile to help reassure her. Trevor snaps from his thoughts and gives Frank a lighthearted glare through the rearview mirror.

"Hey buddy, speak for yourself." Marcy feels her eyes darken, although she tries to suppress it. She really doesn't want to make any enemies at this point, especially with the crazy man next to her. Something about him seems to just irk her darker side. He looks over at her and smiles. "I won't tell, but you can bet your ass I'm gonna get you to help with some shit in the future," he says almost teasingly. Marcy grins back. "Keas, too," he adds.

"Sure thing. I love to help out my friends," she responds happily. Trevor pulls into his driveway and hops out as soon as he puts it in park. The others follow shortly after. "Do you mind if we use your place to patch up Keas? I'd like to get started on it right away," she requests of Trevor. He shakes his head.

"You don't have to ask; go head. I have an extra med kit in the bathroom if you need it. Frank and I will wait out here," he replies.

Marcy and Keas thank him before heading inside. She wastes no time in grabbing the supplies to clean the wound. As she works Keas watches her hands. His eyes trail up her toned arms and across her dark tan skinned shoulders. He goes down past her chest and inspects the bruise spread across her lower chest just above her abdomen. He knows he should bother her when she's concentrating on making him better, but he can't seem to stop his hand from reaching out and lightly touching the differently colored area. Marcy stops momentarily then continues to work on the wound.

"I got it from the explosion earlier. I ran into the steering wheel. I'll be ok, though. I'm going to put some ointment on it as soon as we get home," she explains. She knows he's concerned for her; he always is when she's hurt. She smiles lightly. "Sometimes you need to focus on your wellbeing instead of my own," she adds. Keas raises an eyebrow at her.

"I could say to you, too," he responds. Marcy smiles sheepishly, a light blush dusting her cheeks.

"I guess you could, yes. It's a bad habit of mine, but it's not one I want to stop," she replies. "Keeping you healthy is important to me, Keas." He feels his heart pick up its pace.

"So I keep you safe?" he asks. Marcy shakes her head. He tilts his head a tad to the right in confusion.

Marcy feels her blush deepen a bit. "Not for that reason," she responds. "I care about you; when you're sick or hurt I worry about you. I appreciate and am thankful that you work so hard to keep me safe, but we're not working anymore. We can do whatever we want here with no one to tell us otherwise. We can ride bikes and motorcycles and Jet-skis. We can go on Ferris Wheel rides, eat vendor hotdogs that make us regret it after a few hours, and play dart games all we want just like yesterday." With a small grunt of effort Marcy removes the bullet from his body. Keas says nothing. Because the bullet was in his lower abdomen she had to get on her knees to treat the wound correctly while he sits on the couch, so when she looks into his eyes it's a bit more strain than it usually is. "You're a very important person to me, Keas."

Keas feels like his hear is going to burst with how fast it's beating. "Why not tell me sooner?" he asks. She gives him and almost exasperated look.

"Haven't you ever heard of the term, 'actions speak louder than words'? I didn't think I needed to." Marcy grabs some stitches and a curved needle from Trevor's med kit and starts getting them ready.

Keas ponders her words for a moment. It's true that whenever he would get hurt Marcy was the first person to make sure he was ok, even when the danger wasn't gone yet. One time she even burnt a cut on his leg to stop the bleeding before letting him continue fighting. The time he got those fourteen bullet wounds was the worst. Marcy went on a long rant about how he was completely reckless and scaring her half to death as she patched him up, and then she baked him brownie cookies afterward as a thank you. Keas recalls a couple nights after that he had a large fever caused by lead poisoning from the bullets. He had refused to go to the hospital and remained in bed for the majority of two weeks. Marcy had paid for a doctor to come to the house to treat him and even gave him extra hush money to keep it all a secret. That first night she had fallen asleep in a chair next to his bed with the washcloth she had just replaced still in her hand. He remembers waking up and finding her there. A chuckle escapes him at the memory. She was so mad when she woke up in his bed and for him in the chair instead. He just couldn't stand to see her asleep in a chair while he was in a nice, soft bed.

Keas feels tugging on his skin and looks down to see Marceline putting the stitches in. He recalls how sloppy she was that day they met when putting stitches in him for the first time. She had to run to the store just to get the medical supplies to treat his wounds since she only had small adhesive bandages in her house. He sat on the counter while she tried to clean it. He still didn't know her name at the time, but he does remember thinking how beautiful she looked despite being soaked from the rain.

He looks down at her again, this time with a certain softness to his blue eyes. Her auburn hair is longer now, reaching just below her shoulder blades in loose curls rather than resting on her shoulders. She has it pulled back in a ponytail so it stays out of her way as she works, but her bangs are still loose and parted mostly to her left. Her pale green eyes are still as memorizing to him now as they were back then. They still make him tongue tied when speaking to her sometimes.

Marcy finishes the stitches and makes sure they won't tear anytime soon. She looks up at Keas with a grin. "There. That should hold until we remove them. How does it feel?" she asks. Keas reaches down and touches the stitches lightly.

"Much better," he responds. He reaches out and cups her cheek with his large hand. A blush overcomes her face when he moves her bands out of the way, leans down, and kisses her forehead lightly for a few seconds. He pulls away and drops his hands to his lap while giving her a soft smile. "Thank you for that."

Marcy feels her face burning up and turns her head away so he can't see her blush, although it was already too late. "You're welcome," she almost squeaks out. She stands and moves to put Trevor's med kid back into the bathroom just as she hears his voice from outside.

"Hey. When do you plan to head home?" Trevor asks from the doorway. His eyes don't miss the blush slowly fading from Marcy's cheeks. He raises an eyebrow at the two but doesn't verbally question it. Marcy coughs once to try and dissipate the blush some more before turning to face him.

"I'm not sure. It is only," she looks at Keas' watch, "3:00p.m. Did you have anything in mind?" Trevor gives them both a grin.

"I figured we could go grab a few beers or something. Ron overheard a radio transmission that the cops are looking for the killers of Janice and them so we should probably leave Sandy Shores," he explains. Marcy nods.

"Makes sense. Sounds like fun," she replies. "But we have to take the speedboat. I promised I would return it to Blake when the head died down, and I'm a person-"

"Of your word," Trevor interrupts. "Yeah you said that earlier. Fine. I'll drop you guys off at the boat and meet you at the bar. I'm taking the truck," he responds. He turns and heads back down the porch steps. Marceline turns to speak to Keas but jumps when she finds him standing right next to her. She thought he was still sitting on the couch.

"Who's Blake?" Keas asks. He never heard her mention his name before, and is somewhat suspicious.

"Oh, he's the person I borrowed the boat from. I offered to bring it back when we were done. He seemed like a nice kid, although his manners could use some work. Not to mention we can always steal another boat if we need to," she explains. He nods and doesn't say anything more as he walks out the door. Marcy stands there for a few moments longer.

"Did I say something wrong?" she asks aloud. She quickly puts Trevor's med kit back into the bathroom before following him out of the trailer. It's time to see how strong this friendship really is.

* * *

Happy Holidays, everyone! Thank you so much for reading my story and continuing to showing me support. I would like to especially thank Dovahstav for the reviews. They really keep me going when I'm getting stuck in writing and trying to find the motivation to keep going. I hope everyone enjoys their time with their families during this time; I know I am. Thank you again!

-Jen


	6. Chapter 5

Warning: This chapter jumps around a bit. I'm sorry in advance if it gets confusing.

* * *

Marceline pulls the white speedboat up close to shore before dropping the anchor to keep it relatively stationary. Keas jumps out first, the water coming up to just a few inches below his hips. He reaches out to Marcy to help her out. She places her hands on his shoulders and he grips her waist just enough not to drop her. He lifts her effortlessly and sets her down into the water gently. She shivers a bit when the cool water laps at her stomach as she moves towards shore.

Blake had spotted the boat as it was getting closer and smiles at the sight of Marcy. He was beginning to wonder if she was really going to bring the boat back or not. After all she did pull out her gun and threatened to kill him if he called the cops. And yet there she is, wading to shore with a six foot-four man next to her. Blake gawks at the sight of the muscular man. He isn't an overly large man – Blake's muscles are bigger overall – but his muscle tone is a lot more taunt and dense, not to mention shaped to make him more sleek and aerodynamic. Blake knows that he would no doubt lose if he ever got into a confrontation with the tall man.

Marcy smiles at Blake just as a wave comes up to hit the back of her knees. She waves to him before grabbing Keas' right hand and pulling him over in that direction. Keas eyes the younger man, memorizing his features in case he may ever need to find him at a later date. He catches the way his eyes linger on Marcy's more intimate spots. His stomach feels like it's tied in a knot; at this rate no one may be finding him later.

The two friends come around the boat trailer attached to Blake's truck and stop a few feet away from him. "Hello, Blake. I brought your boat back, just as promised," Marcy speaks up first. Blake offers an uneasy smile.

"Yeah, I can see that. Honestly I'm pretty shocked you did," he responds.

Marcy replies with a playful scoff, "Well I am a woman of my word, after all. The heat's died down and my friends are safe so we don't need it anymore." Blake can't stop his gaze from traveling down, but when the atmosphere fills with murderous intent he quickly raises it to look at her face. He doesn't dare look to her friend to see his expression. "Anyway, we should get going. We don't want to keep our friends waiting. Good luck out there," Marcy says. She goes to walk away with Keas, but stops when Blake grabs her wrist.

"Wait! How about we, I don't know, go out on the boat and have a few drinks or-" Blake cuts off when the redhead puts his arm around Marcy's shoulders. Keas gives him a murderous glare.

"She's drinking with me," he struggles to speak calmly. "Let's go, Marcy." He leads her away and neither of them looks back at the younger man. No matter how much Marcy's polite nature wants her to turn and apologize in some way she knows doing so won't be beneficial to calming Keas' nerves. She would much rather keep her best friend calm. With each deep breath Keas feels his heartbeat lessen, and with each step his anger fades. He lowers his arm from her shoulder as they reach the steps to the pier above.

Marceline lightly takes ahold of his hand and pulls him forward a bit. Physical reassurance has always helped calm Keas down when he's riled up; Marcy realized this very early after meeting the man. Distraction is another. "Hey, do you think we should pick up a new coffee table on the way to the apartment? I think I saw a thrift store on the way over here." Keas smiles with a sigh; she can always calm him when violence isn't needed.

"Not a bad idea. The one there is done," he responds. He moves to walk behind her so a woman doesn't run into him; Marcy never lets go of his hand. "Maybe one with glass. With wood legs." Marcy smiles.

"I was thinking more of just wood like that one, but I guess that will work. We're going to need a new couch and chair anyway. The blood is not going to come out of there," she replies. A thought comes to mind and Marcy squeezes Keas' hand. "Oh yeah, I learned something about all that blood. We were right that more than one person was killed in there. Apparently this cunt and her bitch of a boyfriend lived there. Trevor killed them because the woman pulled a gun on him." Keas' eyebrows shoot up.

"Trevor did?" he asks. He then grins. "I knew we would get along. He has lots a weapons," he comments. He has no idea where Trevor was keeping all the guns he switched to when running out of ammo. Honestly Keas thought Trevor would be the type to never leave his house without filling his magazines each morning. Marcy nods.

"You and Franklin really hit it off, too. I don't think I've ever heard you speak so much with someone else before. What did you guys talk about, anyway?" she asks. Keas watches the way her hair sways side to side with each step up the stairway.

"Oh, not much," he says nonchalantly. His eyes trail down her bare back slowly. "Just told stories, mostly," he adds. His eyes land on their loosely held hands and his smile softens a bit. Stories of their pasts and important people, specifically.

 _Franklin climbs into the back of the Karin Rebel since Trevor had already jumped into the driver's seat. Keas climbs in after, sitting behind the passenger's seat and leaving it for Marcy who's still speaking to Ron. Keas knows she's trying to calm his nerves; she's always been the type to try and make everyone comfortable. She's done it plenty of times to him so he knows it all too well. Trevor smacks the side of the truck loudly._

 _"Hurry the fuck up!" he shouts at her. Marcy whirls around on him._

 _"Shut up, Trevor! I'm coming!" she shouts back. Franklin chuckles to himself._

 _"Man, she really knows how to hold her own against Trevor, doesn't she?" he asks Keas. Keas grins._

 _"Yeah. Marcy's always been tough. She has to be," he responds. Frank nods in understanding as Marcy climbs into the passenger seat._

 _"Right. The leader of a meth lab has got to be tough, huh?" he replies. Keas raises an eyebrow at him questioningly. Trevor takes off down the road. "She told me a bit about it," Frank clarifies, and then he turns so he's now facing Keas. "What's your relationship with her, anyway? She said you're her bodyguard, but I doubt that's why she brought you on vacation with her." Keas furrows his brows._

 _"We best friends. We do almost everything together," he replies. Franklin shakes his head._

 _"So you guys aren't dating?" he asks. In all honesty he hopes they are; something about how in sync they seem to be makes him think they're a couple. Franklin realizes that isn't the case upon seeing Keas' forlorn expression. "Why not?" Keas sighs._

 _"I can't tell her," he mutters back. "Marcy very important. If I tell, she might not return feelings and leave." Franklin raises an eyebrow, thoroughly confused. Marcy really doesn't seem like the type to stop speaking to someone simply because they admitted to liking her. Frank places a hand on Keas' shoulder in reassurance._

 _"Shit man, I doubt that. You could always take it slow, like going out for drinks or a bike ride or whatever she likes," he advices. "So what does she like to do when she's not working?" Keas pulls his lips together thoughtfully._

 _"Well… she likes movies," Keas speaks after a while. "And bowling. And going on walks." Franklin smiles at the man._

 _"See? Do one of those things with her. I hope it doesn't turn out like it did with me and my ex," Franklin murmurs at the end. Keas raises a brow as if questioning him, and Frank feels compelled to respond. "Her name is Tanisha. We met back in high school before I got kicked out. Aw man, she was the best thing to happen to me."_

 _"What happened?" Keas asks. Frank sighs, mentally slapping himself in the process._

 _"She left me after her brother was killed. She said my criminal life was gonna put her in danger," he explains. He quickly adds, "You don't have to worry about that happening, though. Marcy is already in the criminal business so she can't use that as an excuse." Keas chuckles._

 _"Yeah, that's true. She was dealing before we met," he lets slip. Keas realizes his mistake of speaking about their work and quickly looks away. Franklin wishes to reassure Keas and explain that he already knew that, but Marcy opens the window in the back of the cab when he goes to do so._

 _"Guys, Trevor's going to ram the Regina," she warns quickly. Franklin glares at the back of Trevor's head as he grumbles to himself. Keas, however, takes ahold of his tomahawk and prepares to launch himself at the car like he has done many times before._

Energetic music plays from the live band in the corner of the busy bar. At a group table sits 5 young men rating the women in the establishment. So far no one has rated them above a 6, therefore they haven't engaged with any of them. The small bell on the door of the main entrance dings as another customer enters the business. The blond of the group looks to the door to see who it is before getting his friends' attention.

"Guys, check out the babe!" he says in a hushed tone. The others look over to the auburn haired woman. Her curls cascade down her back, covering her bare shoulders. The red of her shirt stands out against her tan skin; it ends above her bellybutton, exposing the now red piercing. The shirt collar rests at the base of her neck, comes down as a single piece, and fans out and around her mid back to help keep her chest covered. Her blue jeans hug her hipbones and cover just the top of her black ankle boots.

"She's a nine for sure," the Korean man says. The brunet shakes his head.

"Nah, more like a seven. She looks older than us," he counters. They watch as she scans the bar, seemingly looking for someone. The Irish man taps the blond on the shoulder.

"If she gets stood up I'm going for the rebound," he states with a smug grin, his accent thick. Upon spotting that she is the first to arrive the woman finds an empty booth to sit in as she waits. After ten minutes the Irish man smirks. "Looks like it's Cormac's time to shine." He stands confidently, the ding of the bell barely registering at the back of his mind as his friends encourage him to go for it. Cormac just passes the first table of several when a loud voice booms out.

"Marcy! You made it!" the voice shouts. Everyone turns to the slightly balding 48 year old man. His arms are spread wide above his head in a joyful, friendly manner.

 _Please no. Don't be-._ Cormac looks to the green eyed beauty to see a bright smile on her red lips. She lets out a laugh.

"Hey, Trevor. Glad you made it, too," she responds as the camo dressed man makes his way to her booth and sits across from her. Cormac feels his hopes shatter and returns dejectedly to his seat.

Marcy smiles nervously as Trevor looks around the bar. "Where's Keas?" he asks, finally looking back at her. A cute blonde waitress places two waters on the table and walks away. Marcy rubs the back of her neck.

"We had a little altercation with a man on the way here. He's getting rid of the body," she explains. Trevor doesn't say anything other than 'ah.' "Where's Franklin?" she asks in return. Trevor scoffs.

"Fucker bailed. He got a call about a job and said he would have to take a raincheck on our little outing here." Trevor folds his arms and leans back in his seat. "Uncle T doesn't do anything he doesn't want to," he continues. He then leans forward, uncrosses his arms, and places them on the table in front of him. "So tell Uncle T; are you and Keas married?" Marcy spits out the water she just tried to drink, splashing it all over Trevor's face. She covers her mouth in shock. Trevor blinks a couple times before running his hand down his face to get rid of the water.

"I'm so sorry!" She grabs a couple napkins and moves to Trevor's side. He doesn't say anything as she tries to dry him off. "You surprised me," she says after a while.

"So I'll take that as a no, huh?" he asks playfully. She smiles sheepishly in return.

"Right. Keas is my best friend, not my lover," she clarifies. _Although he's been acting a bit differently since arriving here. He certainly never would have kissed my forehead back at home._ Trevor grabs her hand when she goes to move it away from his now mostly dry hunting vest. Marcy's eyes widen at the gesture, surprised at how gently the crazy man is holding it.

"So you're not dating anyone?" he asks, his lips curling up in an almost smug smile. Marcy pulls her hand away and shakes her head. Before Trevor can say anything further they both hear the bell at the entrance ding. They look behind them to see Keas standing in the doorway, a few blood spots still fresh on his blue jean pant legs. His white shirt is gone, no doubt discarded because of the bloodstains. The black hoodie is fully unzipped with his abs and still fresh stitches framed for everyone to see. Keas spots his two friends and makes his way over with a smile, but it falters a tad seeing her sitting next to Trevor. "Good of you to join us, Keas," Trevor says. Keas nods silently and sits across from the two of them. Marcy can feel the tension rising in the air around them. She chuckles nervously.

"I'll go grab a few beers for us. I'll be right back," she tells the men. _Please don't fight,_ she mentally wishes as she moves away from the booth.

Trevor leans back in the booth and rests his arms across the back of the seat. Keas grabs the glass of water Marcy drank from and takes a drink himself. "So," Trevor starts, trying to ease the tension, "Marcy said you were taking care of someone. What happened?" Keas feels his shoulders relax a tad.

"Someone ran red light on the way here, then tried to hit on Marcy. I lost it," he explains. Technically that's what happened, although the man wasn't flirting; he punched Marcy right on her covered up bruise and knocked the wind out of her. But thanks to Keas' slight problem with wording sentences Trevor assumes Keas attacked simply because the man tried to flirt with her.

"You're really protective of her, aren't you?" the older man observes aloud. Keas doesn't hesitate to nod his response. Trevor leans forward so he's holding himself up with his crossed arms. "Don't you think maybe you're protecting her a bit too much?" he asks next. Keas falters at the question. He had wondered that same thing quite a few years ago himself and had dismissed the thought. But hearing someone else ask the same thing really makes him think about it again. "Marcy is a strong young woman. I'm sure she would be able to handle herself without your help." Trevor secretly smirks at the troubled expression Keas shows. He replaces the smirk with a smile when he sees Marcy come over with a pitcher of beer and 3 mugs.

"I figured this would be easier and cheaper," she explains as she sets them down on the table. She takes hold of the pitcher and expertly pours each of them a drink. "Drink up, boys," she says with a grin. Trevor grabs the mug closest to him and downs its contents quickly. Keas, not wanting to be shown up, does the same with his drink. Marcy, however, doesn't mind being seen as a lightweight and takes a few gulps from hers while sitting next to Keas.

Trevor smacks his lips and slams the mug onto the table with a content sigh. "That sure hit the spot," he states with a large grin. "So Marcy, tell me a bit about yourself. What was your childhood like?" he asks. He pours himself another cup as he waits for a response. Marcy gives him a small smile.

"It wasn't exactly the best, although I guess no one's really is. My mom died when I was young; I think I was 11 or 12. I can't fully remember that time," she explains. She looks down at her mug, her eyes almost blank as she thinks of her past. "My dad was a druggie. He cooked meth in my house with my uncle after my mom died to help support me through high school. I basically took care of myself by then since my dad was high a lot. But when he was sober he was the best." She smiles softly. Keas places his hand on her thigh for comfort and she smiles wider, thankful for it. "He took me bowling a lot. It was mostly to make deals, but the fun we had afterward are some of my fondest memories of him."

"Is he still around?" Trevor asks, genuinely curious. Marcy shakes her head sadly. She downs half of what's left in her mug, and then licks her lips to get the beer left over.

"No. He was getting too much business apparently so some gang lit the house on fire with him inside a week after my 18th birthday. They were new to the town; they had only been around for a month at the time. After that I lived with my uncle and got a part-time job at a grocery store to finish off school." Marcy finishes the rest of her beer and soon after lets out a burp. She doesn't excuse herself, already feeling the alcohol affecting her. "I did go to college," she says as an afterthought.

"Did you finish college?" Keas asks. He hadn't known that. Marcy grins wide as she pours Kea and herself another drink.

"Yeah. I got an associate's degree in accounting. Not to mention minored in psychology," she explains. Trevor raises an eyebrow at the strange combination.

"How did you pay for it? I doubt that part-time job could cover it," he questions. Marcy nods.

"You're right. It could barely cover my bills let alone college. Before my dad was killed he taught me how to cook meth and all the prices for different amounts in case I needed to know it in the future. So with the help from my uncle we started selling again," she clarifies. The three friends oddly go to take a drink simultaneously. Marcy stops after a few gulps, but Trevor and Keas continue to down the beer without breaking their intense gaze. Tension continues to fill the air until Keas finishes his mug first and sets it down with a satisfied sigh. Trevor puts his mug down heavily and grabs the pitcher. He frowns after finding only a small amount left. He pours the last of it into Marcy's mug which fills it to the rim before standing from the booth.

"I'll pay for the next one," he says before heading to the bar counter. Marcy turns to Keas with a sweet smile.

"This isn't going as horribly as I imagined," she states optimistically. Keas, however, feels differently. He turns so his upper half is facing her and his left knee is gently touching hers.

"Should you really be tellin' him all this? We met him today," he states. He doesn't want to doubt her judgement, but for some reason he can't explain Trevor's actions are bothering him. Marcy stops herself from waving off his doubts as nothing. Keas has always been a great judge of character whether he knows it or not; the last time she didn't listen to him ended disastrously. Marcy pats Keas' leg close to his knee for reassurance.

"I haven't named any specific places or names for a reason, Keas. If knowing a mostly vague part of my past satisfies his curiosity enough to be on his friendly side then I'm ok with that. I would much rather have him as an ally than an enemy," she explains. She smiles sweetly, relaxing his nerves a bit. "Besides, so long as you remain by my side, I know nothing horrible will happen," she adds. She gives his leg a light squeeze before bringing her hand back. Keas gives her a thankful smile while his heart flutters a bit from the physical touch.

Trevor comes back to the table just then with two pitchers in hand. The first is a light almost yellow color while the other is more of a dark maple. Marcy takes a drink from her mug as he sets them down. "Two is always better than one," Trevor states with a smirk. Keas grabs the darker pitcher and pours himself a cup. Marcy sets her half empty glass on the table with a smack of her lips.

"Unless it's tumors," she remarks. Trevor's face scrunches at the bad joke, but Keas smiles anyway. "My gosh, lighten up, Trev. I'm just joking around." She lets out a hearty laugh when he shakes his head at her. He pours himself a cup of the yellowish beer before downing it quickly. He wipes his chin with the back of his sleeve.

"I just can't seem to figure you two out," he states randomly. Marcy and Keas swap confused expressions.

"What you mean?" Keas asks.

Trevor looks between the two friends critically. "Marcy, you seem to have it all. You have the looks, the wit, and the money. You could probably have your pick of any guy in here if you wanted. And Keas, you have almost all the ladies in here checking you out, not to mention you're a savage in a fight. How are you both single?" he finally asks. "I just don't get it. If I was you I would be getting it on instead of sitting here like virgins." Keas blushes lightly at the suggestion while Marcy blinks slowly. _Virgins?_

"Whoever said we were virgins?" she asks almost indignantly. Keas quickly swallows the beer he had been drinking before he can spit it out in surprise while his blush deepens. Trevor smirks at her. He had guessed that she wasn't, but he wanted to hear her say it herself.

"Well it doesn't surprise me that you're not. You do have a smokin' hot bod," he replies coolly. Marcy feels a small shiver race up her back at the way he said it. Something about it bothers her.

"Thanks. So, uh Trevor, what was your childhood like?" she asks, trying desperately to change the subject. Trevor doesn't notice Marcy's discomfort but he decides to humor the topic change anyway.

"Well where should I start? I grew up on the Canadian border of America and have lived in two countries, five states, fourteen homes, three care homes, and two correctional facilities. I had eight fathers; one brother who died in an "accident;" and a beautiful, damaged flower of a mother," he explains. Marcy raises an eyebrow but stays silent, taking note of the air quotes he used. If she didn't know any better she would say he's practiced his explanation before. Trevor uses his pause to finish his mug. He smacks his lips to enjoy the lingering taste before continuing. "My first father left me at a shopping mall when I was little and never came back." Marcy pours Trev another glass and he thanks her with a nod. He stares down into the frothy beer being held by his burly hands. "I burned it down a few years later hoping he was inside," he adds. Marcy chuckles and Trevor feels himself crack a small, almost sad smile. Marcy and Keas turn to each other and seem to share a short, silent conversation before Marcy turns back to the older man.

"That's understandable. I burned down my uncle's house with him still inside after I found out he was stealing from me. Keas here beat his first foster father even after he fell unconscious. He was abusive to Keas," she says, gesturing to the redhead when she speaks of him. Trevor feels his smile grow a bit. "These things just made us who we are. And I figure if you can't be yourself in your own life, then who will?"

Trevor grins. "You know what? You're right. And there ain't nobody that can be like Uncle T than me. Thanks Marce." The nickname came out subconsciously to where Trevor didn't even realize he said it until a whole silent minute later. His eyes widen as he lifts his gaze to see her reaction, fearing the worst. Keas nervously glances at Marcy periodically waiting for the lashing out that's bound to happen. However Marceline acts as if she didn't even notice and silently takes a drink. Keas notices her white knuckles clutching the handle of the mug and realizes she's trying to restrain herself. He smiles, glad to see that she's letting something go for once.

Marceline's first instinct was to lunge across the table and punch Trevor square in the jaw for saying the nickname her uncle used to call her, but she knows it's not his fault. He wasn't the one who made a deal behind her father's back. He's not the one who sold out her father's location to the gang who killed him. He's not the one who secretly stole money from their deals to give to the gang. He wasn't the one who tried to get the gang to kill her so he could have a larger percentage of profit. Too bad for him the plan backfired. Marcy's grip on her mug relaxes a bit at the thought of her sweet revenge. She made sure each and every person in the now nonexistent gang knew exactly how her father felt when he was burned alive. She vaguely hears Trevor say something in the back of her mind, but she's so caught up in the past that she doesn't quite notice.

As Marcy continues to silently drink her beer Trevor leans across the table to speak quietly to Keas. "What's up with her? I was sure she would snap at me at least," he asks, eyeing the woman cautiously. Keas shakes his head with a smile. He leans toward the table as well, the right side of him bent to rest on his elbow against the table. He leaves his left leg partially resting on the bench, his knee still touching Marcy's. He speaks quietly.

"She's trying not to ruin night. She will ignore us until she calms herself. We got maybe five-ten minutes max," he replies. Trevor turns from looking at the strangely quiet auburn haired woman to look at the man across from him. They really do know each other very well; he can tell that much now. To be able to just look at each other to know what they're thinking shows a lot of trust and understanding.

"You two really get each other, huh?" Trevor asks. Keas cocks up his right eyebrow silently asking Trevor what he means. He takes the hint and clarifies. "You two must have known each other for years to get along this good," he restates. Keas grins at the man.

"Yeah, we've been friends for a long time," he responds. His smile softens knowing that out of everyone he's known, she's the one who's stuck with him the longest.

Trevor sees Keas' soft smile when his gaze drifts to Marcy. He looks between the two before he finally figures out the obvious. _Keas loves Marcy._ The thought shocks him as it passes through his mind. _That must be it. It definitely explains a lot._ He looks over the relaxed frame of the younger man for a moment before speaking up. "So what about your past, Keas?" The redhead turns his attention to the balding man. "What was your childhood like?" he asks. Keas shifts uncomfortably, straitening himself out a bit.

"I don't remember a whole lot. I got a concussion when in jail and forgot a lot. Marcy is helping me get them back," he replies.

Trevor's brows furrow in thought. "Did you know Marcy before getting the concussion?" he asks next. Keas simply shakes his head. Trevor hums thoughtfully, trying to come up with another question. "Is Keas your real name?" Again Keas shakes his head.

"I couldn't remember. I think the doc at jail might have said it, but everyone else kept calling me Keas. Something about stealing keys from a guard started it." He looks down at his bare hands. "Marcy nice enough to let me have her last name since I don't know mine," he adds.

Trevor grins at the young man. "I know someone who's very good at finding information about people. Since you have a criminal record I'm pretty sure he could find out your name," Trevor states. Keas looks at him hopefully. "If you want I can give him a call." Keas feels his eyes start to water. Finally he can learn his birth name. He's been trying to figure it out for so long that it got to the point that he thought he would never find out what it was. Just by looking at his face Trevor can tell how much the thought means to him, so he stands from the booth with a wide grin.

Marcy notices the large shift in movement and finally snaps out of her daze. She looks up at the standing Trevor confused. "Leaving already?" she asks. Trevor takes out his phone and lifts it in the air for her to see.

"Just gotta make a call. By any chance do you know when Keas went to jail?" Trevor asks. Marcy blinks slowly then furrows her brows thoroughly confused.

"I found an article about the incident that put him in jail. It was dated May 25th, 2001," she answers anyway. Trevor smiles and nods before heading out the exit. Marcy turns to Keas. "What was that about?" Keas grabs her right hand in both of his, the excitement and anxiety growing with each passing second.

"Trev knows someone that can find my name. My birth name," he answers. He smiles wide while trying to suppress the urge to bounce in his seat. "I'll finally know who I was." Marcy smiles and places her other hand on top of his.

"That's wonderful, Keas! I'm so happy for you." Despite the joy she feels she can't help the worry tugging at her heart. Most of his regained memories have been pretty terrible, and she gets the feeling whatever this person may uncover could just further damage Keas' image of his past self. She hopes with all her heart that knowing won't hurt him.

The brown wooden door opens squeakily before the pale green eyed woman stumbles in. She laughs at herself as she uses the wall beside her to keep herself up. Her tall best friend walks in behind her with a smile on his face as he shuts the door. She drops her ankle boots by the door after having carried them up the steps; she didn't trust herself walking on the lifted heels. She moves to have a seat on the plastic covered couch, but stumbles again after only a few steps. Keas quickly catches her arm so she doesn't face-plant on the floor. She lets out a giggle as Keas pulls her up and turns her around so she's facing him, and then wraps his arms around her to keep her upright. His expression softens, but Marcy is too busy giggling at herself to notice.

"That was a lot of fun, wasn't it Keas?" she asks, a large grin on her face. It's been quite some time since they've had time to let loose and drink like this. Her hazy mind can't even seem to recall the last time she got giggly drunk. She must say her favorite part was the drinking contest between Trevor and a group of younger men. The last two had been between Trevor and an Irish man, although she can't seem to recall his name. Ultimately Trevor won by three full mugs.

Keas smiles down at the giddy, beautiful woman in his arms. "Yeah, it was lots of fun. We should do again," he responds. Marcy subconsciously places her hands flat against Keas' bare chest under his open hoodie. They roam slowly over his muscles as she seems to marvel at the feel of them. Keas' heart picks up its pace quickly as he relishes at the feeling of her soft hands.

"You're tough," Marcy mumbles aloud. She runs her hands up and around his neck before leaning forward and resting her head just below his chin. He pulls her closer, his arms resting at her exposed lower back. Keas rests his cheek on her hair and breathes in deeply, the scent of her coconut conditioner relaxing his tense shoulders.

"You're soft," he mumbles back. Marcy leans back, her eyes hooded and glazed over as she looks up at him. Keas feels his heartstrings being pulled practically leading him to her lips. He moves only an inch before hesitating. In that moment Marcy's eyes widen and grow sharp. She moves quickly out of his arms and then just as quickly jabs him in the chest with her fist. It wasn't extremely hard and in fact it didn't jolt Keas at all, but the shock of it all still affected him. His eyes widen in surprise, although Marcy just grins and lifts her fists.

"I bet I can still best you in a fight," she teases. Keas' shock fades quickly and his ajar mouth widens into an open grin.

"Is that right?" he counters. Marcy nods before lunging forward, aiming a right hook to the side of his head. He steps back to dodge it and catches her around her mid-back when the force throws her off balance. He grabs ahold of her right hand to prevent her from flipping over his arm. If she hadn't known how they got into this position she would swear it looks like they were dancing. Keas chuckles after seeing her blush. "Maybe you can," he pauses briefly to smile, "when you're sober." Marcy smiles sheepishly. After helping her become upright once more Keas moves to the small kitchen to grab her a glass of water.

Marceline rubs the back of her neck; a nervous tick she wishes she never had. She hadn't really planned to drink so much tonight. After all, they did meet up at the bar at seven in the afternoon. But after those thoughts of her past she wanted nothing more than to forget it all. A pang of guilt sobers her up a bit and she frowns. This is the part of being drunk that she hates; the self-loathing and self-doubt that follows the giddy-ness if she doesn't fall asleep in time. Marcy knows she would give anything to forget the constant pain her past brings her, and yet the man just in the other room would give anything to remember no matter how painful it could be.

Keas comes back with the glass in hand, three ice cubes just the way she likes it, but his smile falls seeing the somber look on Marcy's face. He moves to face her right side then leans forward so his face is sideways in front of hers. "Hey, what's wrong?" Marcy takes the outstretched glass with a quiet thank you before taking a drink. "You know you can tell me if something wrong," Keas urges. Marcy lets out a sigh and she diverts her eyes.

"Am I selfish?" she asks quietly. Part of her hopes he didn't hear her, while another wishes desperately that he did. Keas furrows his brows and shakes his head.

"Of course not. Why you think that?" He gently leads her to the couch and helps her sit before taking the spot next to her. The plastic crinkles beneath them but Keas ignores it being too focused on Marcy. He places a hand on her thigh for comfort.

"I ask too much of you sometimes. You do a wonderful job protecting me that sometimes I act carelessly because I know you will be there to keep me safe." She twirls the water in the glass with her finger slowly. Keas frowns, thinking back to what Trevor said at the bar.

"You think I'm too protective?" he asks quietly. Marcy quickly shakes her head.

"Of course not, Keas! I've never once thought that. I just feel like I take advantage of you sometimes." This time it was Keas' turn to shake his head.

"Of course you don't. You do so much for me. You gave me a home, a real friend, job, and purpose." Marcy opens her mouth to speak, but Keas holds a finger to her lips. "No. This time I do pep talk," he says seriously. She closes her mouth and cradles the cup in her hands. Keas smiles, pleased she's letting him take control of the conversation so easily. He clears his throat and straightens his posture. "You have been my savior. Those cops that day stopped me as I was walking. I was trying to find address doc gave me when I left jail to get help. They harassed me afterward, sure I did something wrong 'cause I had tomahawk from my personal affects. They called me names and pushed me until I snapped and attacked. If you didn't walk by I probably be in jail again." He pauses, finally looking into her eyes. "You showed someone can care for me and be kind. You treated my wounds and cooked me meals. And you taught me what real friends are. You could have sent me away after helping me, but you welcomed me in your home. You offered me job, and you helped me learn things again. Thanks to you I have learned so much. You even help with my memories and that means a lot." He takes the cup from her hands and sets it on the glass and wooden coffee table. He then holds her hands gently. "If you ever need help with anything let me know. If you're sad, let me know. I want to help you as much I can."

Marcy feels tears well up in her eyes no matter how hard she tries to blink them away. She wipes them away, not even ashamed of them anymore. Keas' words relieved so much doubt she had been burying. She pulls him into a hug and he happily returns it. After a couple minutes Marcy turns her head and plants a kiss on his cheek then mumbles a thank you. Keas pulls away afterward, a blush dusting his cheeks. She smiles when she sees it and pulls out of the hug.

"I think it's time to get some sleep. It's getting pretty late," she states. Keas looks at his watch to see it's already 11:37pm. Although they would usually stay up until approximately one in the morning they did have a very exhausting day.

After arriving at the apartment after returning the boat to Blake they had to carry the new coffee table inside and get rid of the blood-stained one. Keas removed the area rug on the floor and threw it in the trash. After covering the existing couch and chair with plastic Marcy put ointment on her bruise as promised. The bedroom, bathroom, and closet were untouched by Trevor's victims, so Keas only had to speed clean the main room and kitchen so Marcy could make them dinner before going to the bar. Thinking about everything they did today Keas can feel the fatigue in his limbs. After their long adventurous day he can see why. Keas smiles. "Yeah, I agree."

Marcy stands and Keas follows after rather quickly. He moves away from her to the chair on his right to pick up a blanket draped on the arm of it. When he turns back to the couch he's surprised to see Marcy still standing there. She's timidly holding her right arm at her side with her left hand on her elbow. "You plan to sleep on the couch?" she asks.

Keas becomes confused. _Don't we only have one bed,_ he questions himself. "Where else would I sleep?" he asks aloud. Marcy shifts her weight to her left. Keas recognizes the stance. _She must be really nervous._

"Why not sleep in the bed with me?" she blurts out. A blush overcomes Keas' cheeks quickly, rivaled only by his hair. He feels his heart skip a beat at the thought. "I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if I made you sleep out here. The fumes from the bleach is already making me more lightheaded," she continues.

"You sure?" he finds himself asking. "I'd be ok." He mentally scolds himself. _Shut up! You've dreamed of this for six years!_

Marceline shakes her head. "It's just for sleep. Come on," she urges. She turns away and heads down the hall to the single bedroom. Keas waits a few minutes before taking his time going to the bedroom himself. He wanted to be sure she had plenty of time to get changed in peace. He opens the door just as Marcy straightens out the light blue nightgown she has on. She turns to see him and smiles, her hair now draped over her exposed shoulders. "I can leave the room if you would like to get changed," she offers. Keas shakes his head.

"No; I'll change in bathroom," he counters. He grabs his change of clothes from his still packed luggage and goes into the bathroom. After taking his time getting ready for the night he goes back into the bedroom to find Marceline already in the queen sized bed fast asleep. He smiles softly at the sight of her. Usually when the door to the room is opened Marcy will wake up right away, but she must have been extremely tired to fall asleep so deeply so fast.

Keas quietly makes his way to the bed. Before climbing in to join her Keas hesitates, the thought of going back out and sleeping on the couch crossing his mind briefly. As soon as the thought came Keas pushed it away. Marcy has never offered to share a bed before, and for all he knows it could be a once in a lifetime opportunity. So with a large amount of determination Keas climbs under the covers to join her. He makes sure not to touch her, though. No matter how much he would like to he knows he shouldn't, especially since she's drunk and asleep.

The redhead keeps his back to Marceline to help prevent his urge to wrap her in his arms from growing, but he can still feel and hear her behind him. She moves every which way trying desperately in her sleep to find a more comfortable position. After a few minutes her foot moves back far enough to touch Keas' calf lightly. She stops momentarily, her toes wiggling on his skin. She moves her leg back a bit further to lay her foot flat on his calf. She sighs contently in her sleepy state, enjoying the warmth his skin is transferring to hers. Keas smiles sleepily. Knowing that his presence is helping her rest more peacefully helps Keas drift to sleep perfectly content.

* * *

Hello! Thank you for the continued support. In case you didn't pick up on it, the part where Trevor talks about his family is a paraphrased exert from the game when he talks about it. I'm sorry I didn't post this last month; I couldn't figure out exactly how to end this chapter and I hope you like how it ended up. Next chapter will be diving into their past more so stay tuned! Don't forget to review!

-Jen


	7. Chapter 6

2005

A beautiful blue bird soars through the clear sky looking for a nice place to rest his tired wings. He passes by multiple brick buildings and electricity poles. Finally his sharp eyes spot a window garden on one of the buildings with some worms poking out of the dirt thanks to the rain earlier in the morning. He swoops down to it and flutters his wings to land lightly among the flowers. He leans down to pluck one of the worms from the dirt when an object whizzes right over his head. It hits one of the flowers with such force that it rips the roots right out of the soil where both objects then fall to the sidewalk below. Startled from the close proximity the bird scrambles into the sky yet again, his little heart beating more than a mile a minute. Passersby look down at the sink in utter confusion.

Marceline breathes deeply with her face burning with a mix of rage and the physical exertion it took to rip the sink up from the ceramic stand. She whirls around and stomps her way out of the half a bathroom. She passes a tall man after going through the doorway. He leans on the crème colored wall confidently, his arms crossed loosely. He chuckles, a smirk playing at his lips when she kicks a hole in the wall. "There's still some of those fuckers alive!" she shouts, her blood boiling at the news. The brunet moves his bangs out of his eyes before speaking. He keeps his hand in his hair and holds his elbow out.

"I told you not to rush around before. Some were bound to go into hiding once word spread that the great Alice Cross was going after them," he retorts. His smirk grows while his brown eyes widen in bloodthirst. "But I know where to find them. It will be a fun way to prove how much of an asset I can be to you." He winks, causing the green coloration in his right eye to become more noticeable to Marcy. She shakes her head.

"Sorry Daniel, but this is something I need to finish. You and Keas may help, but they will all burn by my hand." Daniel can practically see the flames already in her eyes. He pushes off the wall and brings his hand out of his hair and stuffs it in his dark jeans pocket.

"Why do you hate them so much, Alice?" he asks casually. "I've never seen you so fired up."

Marceline looks at her "friend" with a hint of suspicion. Keas has been working with her for the past two years now while Daniel has been tagging along for the past couple weeks. He was originally working in one of her labs when it was getting raided by a rival dealer. Luckily Marcy and Keas had already been heading to that specific lab to check in on it and got the call about the raid when they were just around the corner. The gang had her workers held as hostages at gunpoint while other crew members were loading the money and meth into a truck. The appointed leader of the group made the stupid decision to grab Katie – one of Marcy's favorite workers and Daniel's acclaimed girlfriend – and shot her in the head when Marcy tried to stop him. After that all hell broke loose. Marcy was able to get the rest of her workers out while Keas and Daniel attacked the gang savagely. Only two people were left alive by the time they were done: a man now missing a leg thanks to Keas and the getaway driver who took off when the first bullet was fired. It was after questioning the last member there that Marcy learned it was the same gang her uncle used to work with.

Keas tied up the man while Marcy instructed her workers to clear the building and to head home for the week until they are contacted again. They then burned the building down with the man inside and left, but Daniel got in his car and followed her home. After that he just kind of stuck around, constantly trying to prove to Marcy how much she needs him.

Daniel reads her silence as stubbornness and moves closer to her. "Come on, Alice," he murmurs. He reaches up to touch her cheek, but Marcy moves her head away before he can. "You can trust me. I have no reason to betray my boss," he states. Marcy raises her right eyebrow at him as she takes a step back.

"I never hired you personally. How did you even start working at my lab anyway?" she questions him. Daniel takes another step closer, making her take a step back. He sighs before giving her an exasperated smile.

"My girlfriend was working there and a few weeks after she started she told me about her work." He puts his right hand on his hip. "She also gushed on about how awesome and understanding her boss was," he continues. Marcy's cheeks get a tinge of pink at the compliments. Daniel grins at the sight. "The man put in charge there hired me just a week before the raid happened."

"A week?" Marcy asks. "It must have been after my weekly inspection because I didn't see you there." Daniel nods.

"Yeah. We got there late because she had gotten into an accident the day before so her car was in the shop," he explains. He takes another step towards Marcy, but when she goes to move back she runs into the door leading down the stairs. Daniel grins and Marcy feels a shiver go up her spine. He lifts his hand and places it softly on her shoulder. He laughs at the sight of her confused expression. "Like I said; I have no reason to betray you. And I'm not the type to force myself on someone." He then winks. "But don't think I'll give up. I can't let Kal have all of you."

Before Marcy has a chance to ask Daniel what he means the door she's leaning on opens. She feels herself fall backwards and she reaches to grab Daniel's hand, but she just misses his fingertips. Thankfully she didn't fall far before her back hit something hard. Familiar arms wrap themselves around her and help her back to the top of the steps. Marcy looks up and smiles when she sees her favorite redhead. After closing the door and making sure Marcy has her balance back Keas finally lets her go fully. He turns to Daniel with a glare who only grins back.

"Speak of the devil and he shall appear," Dan states. Keas feels his blood start to boil but Marcy touches his shoulder gently, calming him down again. However, he doesn't lower his glare. "I just broke the news to Alice that her rivals are still around and hiding," he explains. Keas turns to Marcy silently.

"It's true," she speaks up. "Daniel says he knows where they're hiding. I know you had plans today, but do you mind helping me?" she asks of him. Only then does Keas smile.

"My plan was ta be with you. I glad to help," he answers. Marcy squeezes his shoulder in thanks before removing her hand. "I get ready." Marcy and Daniel both agree before Keas leaves the room to head back downstairs with his long hair a mess.

Marcy turns to the grinning Daniel with a raised brow. "And what are you so happy about?" She folds her arms below her chest and shifts her weight primarily onto her right leg. Daniel smirks and mimics her stance to the smallest detail.

"You trust my word enough to attempt going after them. Which means you're starting to trust me as a whole," he explains. He walks past her toward the stairs. "I'll win your heart eventually, Alice." Marcy turns to retort, but Daniel is already through the doorway headed to the first floor. She sighs.

"Why am I the one stuck with him?" she questions herself.

After getting everything together and making sure all the magazines were full of bullets the three criminals leave the three story building to go east. In the driver's seat of the green Grotti Carbonizzare is Marceline with her eyes narrowed in determination. Keas sits next to her in the only other seat. Ahead of the two in a matte black Albany Buccaneer is Daniel leading the way. Keas turns to look at Marcy.

"You sure we can trust him?" he asks after a moment. Marcy glances over to him before focusing back onto the road. She quickly passes a Diltanette in her way as she speeds after Daniel.

"He seems pretty adamant on sticking around, so we may as well. I know you have a hard time trusting others, so just leave that to me. You only have to trust in me." She flashes him a genuine grin then focuses back on the road. Keas smiles back.

"I always trust you," he murmurs. Marcy smiles.

Thirty minutes later the two cars stop outside of a single story, simple-looking house with four vehicles parked in the driveway and in front of the property on the street. Marcy and Daniel park on the opposite side of the street before climbing out. Sitting on the porch of the house are two African American men and a younger white teen. The teenager grins when he sees Marcy work her way towards them. Daniel and Keas stay back for a bit as they load their weapons on the other side of the cars out of sight. It's dangerous to drive with a loaded gun.

One of the men stands as Marcy gets closer. "Well hey there sexy. Come here to see what it's like to fuck a real man?" he asks while looking her over. She walks up to him and looks down at the shorter man. The 24 year old lady smirks and pushes his chest lightly.

"If you mean yourself then I'm sorry to disappoint. I'm here on business. Now if you'll excuse me." She goes to move past him, but he stops her with a hand on her stomach.

"This ain't the place for pretty things like you. Why don't you go on home, then," he says firmly. Marcy's face shows her growing boredom. She grabs the man's hand and proceeds to break his middle and pointer fingers. Thank god for the gym. He lets out a cry of pain as he moves away from her and cradles his hand. "You fucking bitch!" he yells. The other two males practically leap to their feet and draw out their guns.

"What the fuck!" the younger one yells.

"Don't fucking move," the other threatens as he aims right at her. Marcy's expression doesn't change. She leans to her right and places her hand on her hip.

"Unfortunately for you, I'm really not in a good mood today," she retorts. Marcy's feeling dangerous. With a bored expression Marcy pulls her Desert Eagle out of its holster on her right hip and aims it back at the man. She shoots him in both kneecaps in quick succession. He cries out as he crumbles to the ground helplessly. She turns her gun to the teen, but he quickly drops his gun and runs from the property. A shot is fired and Marcy sees the young man's lanky figure fall forward onto the pavement. She looks behind her to see Daniel's assault rifle smoking at the end. She gives him an annoyed look as he makes his way to her with Keas. "I told you to keep them all alive."

Daniel shrugs. "I didn't feel like dragging him back," he explains simply. The door to the house opens and another man steps out, but a loud gunshot goes off and he flies back into the building with a hole in his stomach. Keas pumps the shotgun to reload the chamber then aims at the man with the broken fingers and shoots his foot.

"Don't want you runnin'," he utters. Marcy grins and turns back to the house. She takes the pistol the teen dropped and puts it in her holster. She then takes the man's pistol as well as he sobs openly from the pain. She enters the house with a gun in each hand. She sees a woman run through a doorway and down some stairs with a man right behind her. He turns around and opens fire with his micro SMG, but Marcy takes cover behind the couch. While he focuses on trying to shoot Marcy, Keas comes to the door and quickly throws his tomahawk at the man. It hits him on his sternum and he falls backwards down the stairs with the gun still going off on his way down. As he falls they hear women scream. Marcy turns back to look at her two colleagues just as Daniel enters through the doorway.

"Kal, check the basement. Daniel, you're with me," she states seriously. Both men nod.

Keas lifts his gun as he heads down the steps. When Keas gets to the bottom he pulls his sharp weapon out of the man's chest as he chokes for breath. The crimson haired 29 year old looks around the wall to view the rest of the basement only to find the gang's whole meth lab. To his left along the wall he can see the cash and meth stolen from Marcy's lab spilling from some duffle bags. He looks to the right and spots three women hiding in the corner. Keas grins wide.

Meanwhile Marcy and Daniel work their way through the mostly deserted house. Marcy found one man in the kitchen and literally shot him in the dick. He won't be moving anytime soon. Daniel hides behind a wall to avoid the bullets coming from the enemy's assault rifle. Once there's a break in his bullet stream Daniel takes the chance to poke out and shoot the man across his abdomen. He falls, his gun dropping away from him. Daniel moves into the room quickly and goes straight to the gun. He removes the magazine and the bullet in the chamber before tossing it aside and pocketing the extra ammo.

Neither of them find anyone else when they reach the back door. Daniel places his hand on the handle. They both nod simultaneously and he opens the door outward. Gunshots immediately follow, so Daniel and Marcy stay hidden behind the walls by the door. Daniel moves to his right and aims out of the broken window there. A clip later and most of the men guarding the detached garage are on the dirt groaning in pain. Marcy steps out and fires quickly, hitting a man in his upper thigh. She fires again, shooting a man's knee and she watches him fall as well. Daniel joins her outside, and the two of them make quick work of the four remaining men in the yard. As Marcy makes her way to the garage with Daniel taking the lead she hears some of the men grumble through their pain.

"Daniel you fucking traitor."

"I thought he was on our side."

"Fucking bitch."

"I hope he kills them."

Marcy glares at Daniel with newfound suspicion. She knew it was too convenient of him to arrive at her lab just a week before the raid. But Marcy knew his supposed girlfriend Katie for two and a half years when she first started working in her lab, so she wanted to trust him. But now she suspects he only said Katie was his girlfriend because she was killed during the raid and they were close in age. Almost like he used her to help gain her trust and the fact that she died makes it hard to question. Marcy can feel her ears are hot from her growing rage.

Daniel and Marcy enter the detached garage to find the leader of the gang trying to start a piece of shit car and having no luck. Marcy lets out a chuckle at the sight. The 36 year old man jumps at the sound. Marcy aims her pistol at him as he turns to look at them.

"This is really sad, Damien. I would think you had a better escape route in case your base was ever attacked. I guess you were too egotistical to think that far," she gloats a little. Damien glares at her, and then turns to Daniel where his glare darkens.

"You fucking traitor. You're really choosing her over us?" he spits out. "You're making a mistake." Daniel narrows his brown eyes at the man.

"A mistake?" he growls. "You guys made the mistake when you fuckers killed Katie! You said you wouldn't touch her!" he yells, his grip on the gun growing tighter. Damien smirks.

"I said _I_ wouldn't touch her, and _I_ didn't," Damien retorts. A growl escapes low from within Daniel's throat. He grabs Damien by the collar with his left hand and yanks him out of the car. He lets go of his assault rifle and lets it fall against his side thanks to the strap around his shoulder. He then socks Damien across the face multiple times with his now free hand.

"I'll fucking roast you!" Daniel yells between punches. Finally he throws Damien to the ground. Dan lets out labored breaths with his teeth and fists clenched tightly. Damien wipes the blood from his mouth and chuckles, and then turns his attention to Marcy.

"He was supposed to betray you, Alice. My plan was perfect. But Daniel was foolish and chose the day you make your weekly rounds, the idiot. So my boys followed their orders." Damien smirks. "To kill his stupid girlfriend and kill him as well. It would have worked if you didn't show up," he grumbles out at the end. Marcy shakes her head at him.

"You're a fucking idiot," she sighs out. Damien glares. "If you hadn't targeted my lab then I never would have known you were still alive. But because of your mistake, here I am with a gun pointed to your head. Anything you would like to say?" she asks. He smirks.

"Do you know why your uncle chose to work with us? Why he ratted on your dad?" he questions. Daniel sees the way Marcy grows stiff. Damien spots it too and his smirk widens. "Your father was growing soft. He stopped being a part of deals after meeting your mom. He even married the bitch after you were born, and he swore he wouldn't cook again so long as she was by his side. Samson didn't know how your dad made his shit so well so he was losing a lot of business over time. So after a while he decided to kill your mom." At that Marcy visibly freezes. Daniel's eyes soften when he sees it. Damien laughs. "He didn't feel sorry, either. Just ran her right over with a stolen car. Fucking cunt had no idea."

Daniel punches Damien. He grabs his nose when blood comes out afterward. "It sounds to me like her dad made the right choice to try and leave that life behind," Daniel states. Damien chuckles.

"He was a fool! No one escapes." He then grins, blood dripping from his lips. "I still think of the desperate screams he made when I burned him alive."

Marcy can feel the tears in her heart grow as tears fall from her eyes. Without much thought put into it Marcy aims her pistol vaguely and shoots Damien in the thigh. He yells and Marcy feels her tears dry up a bit. She fires again, hitting him in the calf. Another cry of pain and Marcy's tears stop falling, but they still gather in her eyes. She shoots him again, this time hitting him just above his left hip. Damien curses. Finally Marcy wipes her tears away and glares at him fiercely. "My father was a good man! He didn't deserve to die, especially by scum like you." She turns to the somber Daniel. "Grab him and bring him to the house," she orders. Daniel's expression hardens and he nods.

Daniel forcibly drags Damien out of the garage as he follows Marcy back to the house. She stops along the way and bends down to grab a man's foot. She starts literally dragging him to the door. The man screams as dirt and rocks embed themselves into his bullet wounds. The other gang members realize what is happening and try to drag themselves away, but the pain proves to be too much for most of them. One man is able to get onto his feet despite the bullet wound in his thigh. He hobbles toward the fence for a few steps until a gunshot sounds and he feels pain envelop his other thigh. He crumbles to the ground. Marcy stuffs the AP pistol in the back of her jeans after putting the safety on. She moves from the doorway into the house and Keas appears in her place.

Keas can't stop the grin that takes over at the sight of all the injured men. He makes quick work of dragging them all inside. Marcy ties up each one in the living room/dining area of the house. As she does so she can hear the muffled screams of the women downstairs that Keas already tied up. They scream and cry as they watch Daniel spread gasoline around the meth lab and he even makes a circle around them with it. He makes a trail upstairs where it finally runs out. He heads to the front door and grabs one of three more and heads outside to the garage.

A single man's laughter escapes from the center of the tied up gang members. Marcy secures the knot on her last victim before looking at the source of the laughter: Damien. "You'll get caught eventually, Alice. I can't wait for the fucking day you join me in hell," he chuckles out. "Don't worry; I'll give your parents my personal company while I wait." He laughs loudly at her narrowed eyes. A few of his brothers join him.

Her two colleagues join her after dousing the house with gasoline. Marcy reaches into her pocket and grabs a pack of matches. She pauses for a moment before holding the matches out to Daniel. "You do it," she mutters out. Daniel furrows his brows.

"Are you sure, Alice?" he asks. "I know how personal this is to you," he adds quickly. Marcy shakes her head.

"It's personal for you, too. If you really want to work with me then prove it now. Burn your old gang. By doing so you are also swearing your life to Phoenix Inc., and me." It's silent for a moment save for the grumblings from the victims. Daniel's expression hardens in seriousness as he nods and takes the matches.

"You fucking traitor!" someone shouts. "We took care of ya since you were 17! Three fucking years, bro!"

"I knew we couldn't trust you!"

"I'll see you in hell!"

Marcy grabs the last gas can and splashes some over the group tied up on the floor. They exclaim loudly their displeasure as the three friends walk to the door. Marcy leaves a trail of gas behind them on the way. They make it to the sidewalk when the can runs out. She simply tosses it to the side.

All three share a silent nod, and then Daniel lights the match and drops it on the gas. It ignites quickly. The fire works its way to the house rather swiftly. They enjoy the flame show as it works its way up the outer wall. When the screams begin Marcy turns away from the house and heads back to her car. Keas follows shortly after carrying the duffle bags of Marcy's stolen items. Daniel stays where he is, listening to the sounds while feeling like all his troubles are escaping him like the smoke billowing from the building.

"Daniel!" Marcy calls. He turns, expecting a harsh look now that she knows of his part in the raid. However he's surprised to see a grin on her face. "Aren't you coming? You're officially a part of Phoenix Inc. now." Keas stands next to her with a smile of his own. Daniel smiles back and hurries over to her. He salutes playfully when he stops before her.

"I'll make sure you don't regret it, Alice," he says with a grin. Marcy lets out a chuckle.

"It's Marcy," she states. "My real name is Marcy." Daniel's grin softens into a smile. He reaches forward and gently takes ahold of her left hand. He lifts it up and bends down to it where he places a gentlemanly kiss on the ring around her middle finger. Marcy blushes lightly and Keas' smile falls. Daniel lifts his head and smiles at her.

"I won't let you down," he says seriously. Marcy giggles.

"I hope you don't," she replies. She takes her hand back and turns to go to her car door. "Let's go. I'm in the mood for some ice cream sundaes." Daniel laughs happily.

"I'll pay," he offers.

"Works for me. Buy a few different flavors. We'll make them at home. We'll meet you at the apartment." Marcy stops and turns back to Daniel. "On second thought, I'll pay. You head home and pack your things. You're moving." Dan furrows his brows in confusion.

"Where?" he asks.

"You'll see," she answers vaguely. She climbs into her car where Keas was waiting. She pokes her head out the window after starting the car. Daniel moves closer to hear her better. "Don't take too long. Keas loves his ice cream. See you there!" She punches the gas, jerks away from him, and races down the road.

Daniel stands there a couple moments longer, a wide grin on his face. "I'm going to love working with them; I already know it." He gets in his Buccaneer and takes off just as the sounds of a firetruck siren sounds from the opposite way.

The tall brunet man makes quick work of gathering his personal items. He empties the cupboards, refrigerator, and freezer as well. He fills the trunk of his car rather quickly. He stands in the bare bedroom save for the dresser, a wardrobe closet, and the bed. He goes to the dresser and picks up the lone picture frame standing atop of it. Dan gazes down at it with a sad smile. Looking back is Katie, her blonde hair twisted in twin braids and her green eyes shining bright. All the rest of her things have already been sent back to her parents' home in the next town over, but he couldn't part from the picture he took of her last year. Her parents invited him to her funeral; but he politely declined, explaining that he felt her family would like time to mourn her death and he would mourn her his own way.

"Well Katie, I did it," he says aloud. "I avenged you. I know you've always hated violence, but please understand it was something I had to do for myself as well." Dan moves to the bed and sits down with her picture still in hand. "I finally met your boss. You were right that she's very understanding. She's also very strong when she's pissed," he says with a small chuckle. He feels tears prick at his eyes. "Her real name is Marcy; did you know that? And Kal's name is actually Keas. I think the four of us could have been really good friends if we had the chance." Daniel looks up to the ceiling to try and stop his tears. He tries blinking them away, but instead it causes them to fall down his cheeks. Defeated, Daniel looks back down at the smiling picture and lets his sorrows out. A few droplets land on the glass, but he tries hard to wipe them away before they can land on her face.

After taking a few moments to calm himself down, Daniel carries the picture to the last box left in the small apartment. He places Katie's picture atop of his clothes before closing the box. He takes a deep, cleansing breath as he looks over his apartment one last time. He tries not to think of all the memories he shared with Katie in their apartment as he turns away with the box and walks out the door.

Marcy just adds the rotini noodles to the boiling pot when Daniel comes in the front door of the apartment. She looks over her shoulder with a grin. "Hey Dan. I just started on dinner; we're going to have the sundaes for dessert. Did you pack your things?" she asks. Keas looks up from the chicken he's cutting. He offers a smile and a nod in greeting before going back to what he was doing. Daniel smiles back.

"Yeah I did. It's all in my car," he responds. "Is there anything I can do to help with dinner?" he offers. Marcy's smile widens.

"No; we have this covered. You'll be too busy bringing your things to the third floor. You'll be staying there from now on." Daniel is taken aback by the statement.

"Wait, for real?" he asks in disbelief. Marcy nods with a laugh. "Well shit. Thank you so much!" Dan hurries out the door to bring his things inside.

Keas continues to help Marcy with a smile on his face. Although he had his doubts about Daniel at first, Marcy explained to him what happened in the garage with Damien. He was right to have suspected him at first, but after he proved that he no longer affiliated himself with his previous gang Keas no longer felt uneasy about him. In all honesty he was starting to grow a little fond of his personality over the past couple weeks. It was refreshing for Keas to meet someone who wasn't afraid of him at first sight.

The two continue preparing dinner for the three of them as Daniel races through the door every few minutes with one box after the other. He places two boxes in the kitchen before moving back outside for more. After placing the casserole in the oven Marcy's curiosity gets the best of her and she opens the boxes. She laughs loudly at the sight.

Each box is filled with nothing but junk food. In one it has cheese puffs, chips, popcorn, candy, a half a loaf of bread, and cookies. In the other it has ice cream, popsicles, ice cream bars, breakfast burritos, chocolate milk, frozen pizzas, pizza rolls, and a single empty ice cube tray. She takes a couple moments to calm her laugh enough to start putting the food away. Keas stares at the food then looks at the skinny man walking in the doorway.

"You must have a really high metabolism or something," Marcy comments. Daniel stops with his last box in hand. He smiles sheepishly, a bit embarrassed. He had hoped to hide his goodies from the two, but after bringing the first box in he found that the third floor didn't have a kitchen. Upon further investigation he found out that the second floor also doesn't have a kitchen. A light blush comes to his cheeks.

"Katie did all the shopping when we lived together. And before that I was living with my parents, so I never had to go grocery shopping before," he admits. "So I ate what we had left. And I was so depressed when I went shopping I just bought things that sounded good." Marcy gives him a sad smile.

"I can understand that. After my father passed on I only ate these things, too. But I ended up gaining twenty pounds because of it and I worked extra hard at the gym to get rid of it. It's a lot easier and faster to gain weight than it is to lose it," she inputs. Dan ducks his head to his shoulders, obviously more embarrassed than before. Marcy grins wide. "Don't worry. I'll be making our meals. If you would like I can teach you how to cook for when I'm not here." Dan becomes noticeably less uncomfortable and smiles in return.

"I would appreciate that." He turns and heads up the stairs with a smile. Keas turns his head from where he is to speak to Marcy.

"You right this time," he utters. He stands at the kitchen counter squeezing oranges for fresh juice to go with dinner. Marcy shrugs humbly.

"I mainly wanted to help him like I did for you," she states. "When someone is in a rough spot in life genuine support is hard to come by. You find a lot more people willing to turn you away when in need rather than anyone willing to help." Dan starts down the stairs, but stops before reaching the last few steps when he hears Marcy speak. "I feel horrible enough as it is that I wasn't able to save Katie. For all the influence my alias has on people it did nothing to save her. If it weren't for me she might even still be alive." Daniel peaks around the corner to see Marcy at the table. She stares down at the plate in her hands as she pauses from setting the table. "Daniel is still young, and only he can decide what to do with his life now. I hope to support him in any way I can while he figures out what is best for himself," she says softly.

Daniel feels his cheeks burn from embarrassment while his heart warms at the sincere words. She really is a kind person. _I won't let you down._

* * *

Hello everyone! Thank you for the support, Dovahstav! It really means a lot. It took longer to find the time to type this up than it did to write it out, but the next chapter is taking me a bit longer. It may even be split into two since it seems to just keep going. I hope you all like this chapter! Let me know what you think~!

-Ariel


	8. Chapter 7

Marceline wakes up with a smile, a feeling of nostalgia washing over her at the memory. It was a strange way to gain the final person in her small world, but the circumstances had caused trust to form quickly between them. After Daniel moved in their times at the apartments gained a more homely feel to it. A year later Daniel stopped knocking when he had to go across Marcy's living room area to get to the kitchen on the first floor. The stairs were strangely on opposite sides of the building. This, of course, brought upon a lot of embarrassing and hilarious situations. Marcy had found out rather quickly that Daniel loved to sleep in his boxers: only his boxers. She remembers looking at his abs and wondering how his shirts completely covered them so well. The first time she was thankfully in her night robe, so it wasn't so bad. Marcy stifles a laugh at the thought of one instance in particular. Her smile widens into a grin as she looks up at the vaguely familiar ceiling.

It had occurred only five months ago. Marcy had arrived home after a morning jog to find Janice in the kitchen with Keas, each with a freshly made cup of coffee. She was very confused at first. She had already planned to meet up with the blonde later on in the day since she had some work to do that morning. Janice explained rather quickly that she came to surprise her with breakfast in bed, but Marcy had already been gone for a good forty-five minutes before Janice even made it there. Becoming warmhearted at the sweet gesture Marcy invited her to wait in her part of the apartment while she got cleaned up.

After making sure Janice was comfortable in the living room Marcy took a very quick shower and dressed into a fresh outfit. She had just finished buttoning her jeans when she heard Janice yell. She grabbed her heavy pistol from her nightstand and cautiously made her way into the living room. She let out a breath and lowered her gun when she saw Daniel in his boxers with his hands raised.

"I smelled coffee," was the first thing he said. She remembers laughing. His carefree attitude about these sorts of things always seemed funny to her. Marcy frowns next after recalling that it was also the day Janice found out about her work. That's when the problems started.

The pale green eyed woman slowly turns her head to her left after feeling some movement on the bed. She smiles when she sees a mess of red hair on the pillow beside her. She vaguely recalls what happened last night before passing out on the comfortable queen mattress. A hot blush forms after she remembers she had actually _invited_ Keas to join her last night. In all honesty they had never really been in a situation where there had only been one bed. Whenever she would book a hotel she always made sure there were two beds like she had the night before. She can never stand the thought of her friends sleeping on the couch or a chair just so she has the bed. Her drunken mind must have used that logic to convince herself that the only way to resolve the problem was for both of them to share the bed.

Although Marcy's gotta hand it to her drunken self - she never would have had the courage to invite him if she were sober. She's thought about it a couple times. She often caught herself wondering what it would be like to feel his muscles against her skin, or how it would feel to have him hold her close as she slept. Unfortunately it's not just Keas; she's had the same thoughts about her younger friend as well. Daniel isn't a bad looking guy. With his gorgeous brown eyes (with that hint of green in his right eye) and his curly bangs he is quite the catch. He shaves the back and sides short, maybe just a couple inches long at best. Meanwhile he leaves his bangs hanging just low enough to partially cover his right eye.

It became apparent quite quickly that Daniel has an obvious affection for both her and Keas. At one point, after a lengthy celebration of another rival gang being wiped out, Dan suggested ditching the rest of the beer and heading up to his room for a three-way. At Marcy and Keas' stunned silence, he undauntedly continued to describe the many different adult items and toys he had hidden in his bedroom closet. Marcy had considered the option once before and actually had to think about her response now that one of them offered. Ultimately her drunken self refused, much like a sober Marcy would. Keas had muttered under his breath, but otherwise didn't actually respond to Dan's suggestion.

A graze to her foot shakes Marcy from her thoughts. She focuses on the feel of skin touching her leg and slowly realizes that it's Keas' leg. Marceline turns over in the bed to face him, keeping her leg against his when she's done. She looks at his peacefully sleeping face and feels her heart flutter. When was the last time she stopped and just looked at Keas? He's quite handsome himself. If Marcy were ever asked which of the two men know her the best she would say Keas without hesitation.

Marceline looks to his mess of red hair and smiles a bit. She loved how his hair flowed in the wind when it was long. But after playing a game of Truth or Dare (suggested by Daniel), Marcy had mentioned that she loved the look of short hair on a guy. The next day she came downstairs to find Keas attempting to give himself a haircut. He had both sides at different lengths, and after suppressing her giggles Marcy helped him even it out. Since then he's asked her to help him cut it when needed.

Green eyes trail down and stop after a short ways, landing on a pale line above his right eyebrow. The cut had healed many years before, but the scar remains as a stark reminder of Keas' bravery and her stupidity. Seven years ago another of Marcy's labs was being raided by yet another gang just starting out. They were just leaving when it began. Marcy made a quick call to Daniel who was waiting in the car and a man attacked her just as she hung up. She went to pull out her gun, but he used a metal pipe to knock it out of her hand. They brawled for a bit with Marcy trying desperately to avoid a hit from the pipe when another man joined his colleague. Keas had just finished off the one he was fighting when he noticed Marcy was outnumbered. He came to her aid but ended up with the cut after taking the blow meant for her from the metal pipe. Marcy reaches out and lightly traces the curved scar with her thumb. She wishes he would stop taking blows meant for her, but it is what she was paying him for in the first place.

Her gaze continues downward, going over his closed beautiful blue eyes and down his narrow nose. They stop at his lips. They're thin, but also abnormally wide. His smiles show just how large his mouth really is - much larger than her own, for sure. They're colored a nice pale pink and are slightly open as he sleeps. She always wondered how they would feel against her own more plump ones. She lets out a sigh while feeling a blush rise to her cheeks again.

Despite her urges and feelings for her two friends she refuses to act upon them. Marcy adores her friends, and – dare she admit it to either of them – loves them both very much. She would hate herself if dating one of them would hurt the other, so she refrains from making her nightly dreams a reality. The thought of losing what she has scares her; it scares her more than tight spaces and flying combined. Maybe one day she'll find someone to share her life with romantically. Someone who will show her just how much she means to him – or her – at any chance they get. But until then Marcy is perfectly content on sharing her life with her two best friends instead.

Marcy caresses Keas' cheek as he sleeps, her eyes growing increasingly soft. A flash of black ink on her wrist draws her attention away from his peaceful face. She pulls her hand away and turns it to see the inside of her left wrist. There in beautiful black ink is the letter **D**. A rectangle filled with flesh colored spirals and elegant waves takes up the left part of the tattoo. The curve is made entirely of the same spirals and waves of varying widths. She was very happy with the outcome of it. She lifts her right arm and looks to her wrist to see the beautifully crafted **K** on it. It's written in cursive with a thinner one peeking out beneath it like a shadow. It's littered with black dots of varying sizes, but it doesn't look bad. If the artist had made a mistake she couldn't see it.

The three friends acquired their tattoos after living together for four years. Daniel had made the suggestion, of course; he was always the bolder one of the three. They had booked the tattoo parlor for the whole day to get them done. Dan had gone first. He got a fairly simple **M** on his right wrist. It was quite pretty despite being so simple. The **M** had curls come out of the tops and bottom most parts. "To symbolize your hair," he had said. The middle came down to make a sharp pointed loop that stopped lower than the ends, but it looks nice. Above it is the infinity symbol, broken up in parts that would have touched the ink for the letter where it went through it. On his left he got a **K** but this one took a lot longer to finish. It was made primarily of unfilled line segments that moved together like tufts of brown hair with pointed ends. They flowed together to make the shape. There was a skull hidden within the tufts on the left, along with a half a butterfly wing poking out of the outer left side. There's also a crescent moon within the bottom right portion with a ripple pattern inside it. It was a little confusing at first when she looked at it; there seemed to be a lot going on compared to the other, but he was happy with it all the same.

Keas went next. He got a **D** on his left wrist and asked that it be made in a somewhat similar fashion to the **K** Daniel got. The main thing that stuck out was the large scorpion facing the left side. It took up most of the tattoo with its tail coming up in the middle of the letter with lines connecting it to the curve of the **D**. Spikes come out of the curve in carefully spaced locations so it doesn't look tacky. It was very well done and did seem to match the style Daniel got. On his right wrist he got an **M** that seemed like it was almost a gothic style. It was thick with bold shading. It had curves and leaves along the bottom with some simple curls branching out from the middle and ending on either side of the letter. It had two circles as well; one dead center at the top of the letter, and another at the bottom below the first with leaves fanning out beneath it. It was really beautiful, and wasn't too girly despite the fact he got it in honor of her.

When it was time for Marcy to get hers Daniel informed her that she could have it done any way she liked. So she told the artist to put a **K** on her right and a **D** on her left wrist that were of similar fashion to the **M** 's her friends got. When Daniel asked why she wanted it that way she responded that it just further showed how strong their bonds are, like when Keas got his tattoo similar to Daniel's. She doesn't remember another time she's witnessed Dan's expression grow so soft before.

Keas stirs in his sleep. Marcy jumps a bit, forgetting that he was in the bed with her for the third time. She was so comfortable reminiscing the past that it literally just slipped her mind. She lets out a soft giggle.

The redhead's mind comes into focus at the sound and Keas awakens without opening his eyes. Right away he knew he was not alone, and he scrambles to process the last things he remembers. He fights down a blush as he recalls what happened last night. He intentionally fell asleep in the same bed as Marcy after being invited to sleep with her. His heartbeat increases, but he continues to feign sleep despite this fact. Keas knows Marcy is usually very modest and if she hadn't been drinking she would have insisted that he took the bed while she braved the living room couch. Ultimately if he had to he would have Marcy in the bed while he slept in the tub. He had to do it before when sharing a one-bedroom motel room with Daniel and he wouldn't hesitate to do it again.

Keas fights with himself over whether or not he should open his eyes. From what he can hear he knows that Marcy is awake but has yet to leave the bed even after knowing that Keas is in the bed with her. He decides to roll over toward the wall to face away from her to see what her reaction is.

Marcy glances over to Keas after he rolls over. She really doesn't want to be the reason he wakes, but at the same time she's starting to feel uncomfortable lying down for so long. She's used to getting up early and going on a jog or hitting a new gym, not lying around with nothing to do. She decides to slip out of the bed as quietly as possible, and then make her way out of the room to use the bathroom.

Keas lets out the breath he didn't realize he was holding as soon as she closed the door. He didn't know if Marcy knew he was awake or not when she started moving in the bed, but by how quietly she left it seemed like she didn't know. His heart warms at the thought; _she tried not to wake me on accident_. Keas climbs out of bed and grabs a loose grey t-shirt from his luggage. After slipping it on he sits on the edge of the bed for a moment to comprehend how he feels. He knows the drinks had affected the both of them last night. _Shit,_ he thinks to himself, _I almost kissed her last night. If I did that…_ The thought trails off. He doesn't _want_ to know what might have happened. Being drunk doesn't excuse the fact that he didn't ask for permission first.

As Keas beats himself up while dressing himself for the day, Marcy is doing the same thing in the bathroom. She cleans her face of the leftover makeup she was too tired to take off yesterday. She looks at herself in the mirror and cringes at the sight of her knotted mess she calls hair. Her curls are now jumbled together in large knots. _I need to shower to fix this mess,_ she thinks. She grabs a sturdy hair tie and pushes her hair back. She ties it back in a messy bun so it's not as bad to look at as it was before. Marceline takes a moment to compose herself. _Ok, Marcy. Nothing happened last night; Keas is too kind to take advantage of anyone while they're drunk. You slept in the same bed, but that's ok. Your clothes were still on when you woke, which is already better than the last time you drank. Now you are going to go back in there and act normal._

Marcy takes a deep breath when a putrid scent wafts towards her. She cringes and physically recoils away from the source. Slowly she makes her way closer to the tub. She pulls the shower curtain back and horror overcomes her at the sight of a brown substance smeared on the wall with a blow-up sex doll lying in the tub. There's no doubt in her mind that it's shit, although whether or not it's human or animal shit is unknown to her. _It looks like a shower is out of the question at the moment._ She quickly leaves the room to try and escape the smell.

Just as she closes the door Keas steps out of the room to her right. She looks him over, a light blush dusting her cheeks when she thinks of the events of last night again. Keas gives her a smile, enjoying the sight of seeing her in a nightgown. It's a rare sight for him since she's always up and dressed before he wakes up. "Good afternoon, Marcy," he offers in greeting. Marcy raises an eyebrow.

"Don't you mean good morning?" she asks. But Keas shakes his head.

"It's 1:27pm," he responds after looking at his watch. Her eyes widen significantly.

"What?!" she shouts. "Oh my god! I need to get you some food! You must be starving." She hurries into the kitchen and scrambles through the cupboards to gather ingredients for pancakes. After gathering everything on the counter she moves to grab a bowl to mix it in, but Keas grabs it first.

"I'll get food started. You go get ready for the day," he states, already moving to the ingredients. Marcy frowns.

"That's hard to do with shit covering the tub," she retorts. Keas stops momentarily and then continues adding ingredients to the bowl.

"I don' think you wanna wear a nightgown when cleaning, then. I got this. Go." He turns his back to her and she pouts. She knows he's right, and she does feel a bit embarrassed standing in her knee-length sleepwear, but dammit she loves to cook. With a sigh she reluctantly moves to the bedroom to get dressed.

Since she isn't able to make her hair more presentable Marcy decides to pick out some comfortable clothes for the day. She slips on a pair of dark jeans that fit nice and snug against her skin. Next she goes to a different bag and opens it up. She pushes aside her more provocative tops and searches deeper. She cracks a smile when she finds what she's looking for. She removes her nightgown quickly and slips on the large shirt effortlessly. The bright pink shirt moves along her frame loosely with an image of a white unicorn covering her chest. It has a couple small bleached spots littering it since she almost always uses it when she needs to do any deep cleaning. She decided to skip out on makeup for the day deeming it unnecessary on her day at home.

Marcy steps out of the room and is immediately greeted by the sweet scent of pancakes from the kitchen. A thought occurs to her and she quickly goes back into the room and emerges with a large mason jar in hand. The caramel colored liquid inside is already making her mouth water. Keas spots the object as she enters the kitchen.

"Is that Daniel's maple syrup?" he asks. Dan has been making the syrup for the past couple years now and offers it as a sort of reward to anyone who goes above and beyond at the labs. His older brothers have allowed him to use the maple trees on their properties since the three friends only have one tree behind the apartment.

Marceline grins. "Yeah. He wanted me to bring it with claiming we would forget all about him if we didn't," she replies. Keas chuckles as he flips a flapjack.

"He always so overdramatic," he laughs out. Marcy joins him.

"Yeah, but he always means well." She sets the jar down next to the completed pancakes. She takes a deep breath, enjoying the smell. Keas moves the last two onto the plate and turns off the burner. Marcy grabs each of them a plate of the food and covers them in butter and maple syrup while Keas takes care of the ingredients that made it. They take a seat across from each other at the table and don't hesitate to dig in. Marcy lets out a moan at the taste. "I swear you make the best pancakes ever. I use the exact same ingredients you do and mine don't turn out half as good as these do," she compliments. Keas' cheeks get a dust of pink.

"You say that every time," he mutters.

"It's true every time," she retorts with a playful air. Keas becomes embarrassed so the rest of the meal is spent in a joyful silence. Afterward when Marcy goes to the fridge to grab a glass of milk to wash down the pancakes she finds there's only a small amount left. "Hm. Looks like I'll have to run to the store to pick up some more," she utters to herself. Keas walks up behind her and sees it as well.

"I can go get it," he offers. Marcy raises her brow at him.

"Do you even remember where the store is?" she asks. He ducks his head in embarrassment, his cheeks growing pink again. "I didn't think so. You were too focused on petting that dog to see where we were. I'll drive us there," she states. She grabs her purse, slips on some black flats, and walks out the door. Keas hurriedly puts the extra food in the refrigerator and scrambles to slip his shoes on before going out the door as well.

Marceline flies down the road, catching air a couple times thanks to her speed. She passes by a cop when going through a red light but he doesn't give chase. _The police seem pretty lax here unless you kill someone or someone calls 911,_ she observes. Marcy slows when she's close to the store. She easily maneuvers the Fugitive into the parallel parking space between a yellow Issi and a blue Dubsta. She turns to Keas with a smile and hands him a $20 bill. "Go ahead and buy it since you're more presentable right now. Grab anything else you want, too," she adds at the end. Keas nods and leaves the car to enter the store.

As she waits Marcy's mind wanders to the article describing Keas' heroic deed. _2001 can't be right. He got out of jail in 2003 when I met him, and he was in jail for two years after his concussion that caused his memory loss. So he got that in 2001, and I know he was in there for a few years before that happened._ She decides to look back at the article again so she grabs her phone from her purse. Before she gets a chance to unlock it, however, it starts playing 'Fembot' by Robyn and displays a picture of Daniel in a Pikachu hoodie. Quickly she answers it, a bright smile across her lips. "Hey Daniel, what's up? How's the business doing?"

"Just fine. Martin tried to take advantage of the fact that you're gone and tried to go independent with the lab we left him in charge of. I looked at his numbers for the past month while I was there. He was charging his clients more and pocketing the extra dough." Daniel kicks his legs up to rest his feet on the couch with his back on the floor. "I put Millie in charge now."

Marcy raises a brow. "Millie? She's so soft spoken, though," she states.

Dan crosses his ankles. "She has a lot of good ideas, though. That's why I deemed Francis her right hand man to make sure her orders are followed through. It's been working so far."

She grins at the thought of the two working together. "Doesn't that meathead have a thing for Millie?" she inquires.

"You bet," he responds with a grin of his own. "That's why I know he'll listen to her." Daniel rolls over onto his stomach. "Speaking of crushes – have you had sex with Keas yet?" he asks bluntly. Marcy blushes deeply, glad that Dan can't see it. "You better not have. I told you I want to be there when you do."

"Dan! Shut up!" she scolds. "You know I won't."

He shakes his head. "Marcy, we both know that you want to. You seem to forget that my bedroom is right above yours. I've heard you moan our names in your sleep, you know." Marcy doesn't know how to respond; her blush is deeper than it has ever been before. Daniel shrugs to himself at the silence knowing full well she's blushing like mad. "You could always have sex with me first, if it makes you feel better. You know I'm always down for it," he says casually.

Marcy was mistaken before; her blush is now darker and travelling down her neck. "This is no time for jokes, Dan," she says, trying to dismiss it as such.

"I assure you, my lady, this is no joke," he responds haughtily, offended that she would think so. _Eight years of unsuccessful flirting and she thinks I'm joking? How rude,_ he complains. "You know you're the only woman I love," he admits. It's silent for a moment until Daniel speaks again. "Although if Keas ever shows an interest in me I would be all over him in a heartbeat."

Marcy quickly shakes her head trying not to imagine it; at least not right now. "This is not the conversation I imagined when you called. I'm hanging up now," she states, although she doesn't make an attempt to do so. A shout from outside the car distracts her as Daniel complains, then apologizes, and then begs her not to hang up since he misses her so. "Look I'll call you later, Daniel." A blonde young woman shoves a man close to her age away from her while screeching at him. Dan goes to protest but Marcy cuts him off. "I need to help this girl. I'll call you tonight. Bye D." And she hands up before he can say anything. She climbs out of the car and hears the young woman scream when she does.

"Get away from me, Ryan! I'm not gonna hear your excuses!" She turns away from him and moves closer to the Issi, but Ryan grabs her wrist.

"Tracey just listen to me! It's not what you think!" he pleads with her. She whirls on him, pointing her finger at his face.

"You were fucking the bitch! How is it not what I'm thinking? Now let go of me, Ryan. You're hurting me." She tries to pull her hand away but he only tightens his hold. She visibly flinches. Marceline reaches out, grabs his wrist, and squeezes until he lets go of Tracey. She thrusts him back as she lets go of him. She moves in from of Tracey to block her from his view.

"Is there a problem here?" Marceline asks. She levels a challenging glare at him. His expression darkens.

"Stay out of this, bitch. This is between me and my girlfriend," he says. Keas steps out of the grocery store just behind Tracey and quickly accesses the situation. He moves to stand next to the blonde, a gallon of milk in one hand and a paper bag in the other.

"From what I overheard you've broken up. You don't have the privilege to speak with her anymore," she retorts.

Tracey lets out an audible gasp when she spots Keas next to her. He offers her a kind smile. "I'm with her," he explains. He lifts the gallon of milk to gesture towards Marcy.

Ryan's brows furrow in anger. "I don't have the privilege? You should feel privileged talking to me, you ugly old lady." Marceline doesn't hesitate to jab his nose hard. He jerks back from the speed of it. He recovers quickly, though, and swings a right hook at her. Marceline crouches down to dodge it and takes the chance to punch him in the stomach.

Tracey turns to Keas as the other two continue to duke it out. He stands there calmly watching them. "Aren't you going to help her?" she asks. Keas glances to her and shakes his head.

"Marcy got this. She won't let this prick win," he replies calmly. Marcy smirks after having heard him. She throws a powerful left punch making him crumble to the ground. She stomps down on his stomach once then turns away from him as he lays motionless on the ground save for his breathing. Marcy walks up to Tracey with a look of worry.

"Are you ok? How's your wrist?" she asks. She reaches out and carefully holds her hand to look at her wrist herself.

"Oh…" Tracey breathes out. She's too surprised that the stranger is showing genuine worry to pull her hand away from her. Marcy shakes her head.

"That's definitely going to bruise. Hold on." Marcy goes through the passenger door of her midnight blue Fugitive and grabs her purse. She rummages through it for a bit before pulling out a small tube of ointment. She holds it out to the younger girl with a smile. "Here. This will help the bruising go away faster. You wouldn't want it to blemish your great tan any longer than needed, right?" she inquires. Tracey hesitates at first but eventually accepts the ointment.

"It's not gonna smell, is it? I don't need to smell like shit all day," she asks snobbishly. Marcy chuckles. Tracey must have assumed it would smell bad because of Marcy's poor attire today.

"No; it smells like honey."

"It won't clash with my honey-scented body wash, then," she states with a grin. "Thanks for helping me, I guess. I'm Tracey."

"And I'm Marcy. This here is my best friend, Keas. Try to stay out of trouble now, alright? Here," Marcy reaches into her purse and takes out a business car identical to the one she gave Franklin. Tracey accepts it when it's offered to her. "That's my number in case you're in trouble again, ok? Don't hesitate to call me if someone's after you." Keas places the groceries in the backseat before climbing in the passenger seat. Marcy gives Tracey a wink. "You can call if you want to party, too. I usually look much nicer than this. See you around, Tracey." The younger woman watches the two leave. Honestly she's really confused on what just happened.

Keas turns to Marcy. "Do you think she looked…" he trails off. He still can't believe it.

"Like Katie?" Marcy finishes. She still can't believe it, either. "Yeah." It's silent for quite some time after that as Marcy focuses on getting them home. Just a block from the apartment she finally speaks again. "Not a word of this to Daniel." Keas nods his agreement.

They both know Daniel hasn't really gotten over her. From what he's told them he met Katie back in high school when he moved away from New Orleans. She was his first friend in the new city and his first girlfriend. Katie loved to party and have fun, and to make the money to continue that kind of life she started working in one of Marcy's labs. Katie never had an interest in using it, but she knew how to sneak about and blend in so she wasn't caught dealing. She had a lot of practice when sneaking out to meet up with Daniel.

Marcy shakes her head to dispel the old memories. She hasn't really gotten over her death, either. She still blames herself.

Keas sets the groceries on the counter and slowly starts putting the items away. "Oh yeah," Marcy speaks up, "Was there any change left after buying those?" Keas grabs the money from his pocket and drops it into her outstretched hand. She unfolds the bill only to find the $20 she gave him earlier. She frowns. "You used your own money, didn't you?" she accuses him. Keas simply grins in response, causing Marcy to shake her head. She stuffs the money back into his front pocket; Keas stiffens when she does so. "At least keep this, then," she says casually. She doesn't notice the light dusting of pink on his cheeks. He grabs their shoes and goes to put them in the closet across from the front door. Marcy raises a brow upon seeing this. "Wait a second. I thought that was a closet?" she questions aloud, pointing to the door in the left corner of the apartment.

Marcy and Keas share a look of curiosity and move to the door to see what's on the other side. Keas opens the door inward a bit, and almost immediately the all too familiar stench of death smacks them both in the face. Opening the door more reveals the source of the stench. Lying on the queen-sized mattress are two decaying bodies laid in a very compromising position. The body of a woman lies on her back on the bed with the man lying on top of her in the 69 position. Marcy turns away from the scene with a hand covering her nose and mouth before she can see anything else.

From the street civilians can hear a woman scream in what sounds like anger. "Treeeevoooor!"

* * *

Hello! Surprise! I decided to upload this chapter sooner than I had planned. Since this chapter just kept on going I figured this would be a good spot to split it up into two different chapters. I hope you like it!

-Jen


	9. Chapter 8

Trevor yawns as he stretches out in his bed. He smacks his lips and rubs at his eyes to get rid of any crusties. After gathering his energy Trevor finally stands up, only to fall back onto the bed on his ass. Pain explodes from somewhere in his head causing him to groan and rub his temples. After the hangover pain subsides Trevor attempts to stand again and this time he succeeds.

He takes care of his business in his small bathroom and goes to move out of the room when a glimpse of white in his mirror stops him. He looks upon the white patch on his shoulder and slowly starts to recall the events of the day before. Trev's gotta admit that when he invited Franklin to hang out yesterday he was not expecting any of the events afterward to happen. Before he can ponder on the previous day's adventures further Trevor feels his phone go off in his pocket. He fishes it out to find a new text from an unsaved number.

"'Trevor! What the fuck, man? You had better get over here and help me get rid of these bodies. They're disgusting! –Marcy.' Oh, it's her," he mutters at the end. He had forgotten that he swapped numbers with Keas at the bar, but never got Marcy's number. A short while later Trevor sends a reply after figuring out what she was talking about.

"'Calm your tits, I'll be there today when I can. –T'" He stuffs the phone back in his pocket. He's got some flying to do, first.

Marcy pouts after reading Trevor's reply. She had wanted to move them as soon as she can, and Trevor's truck would be perfect to transport the bodies, but now she has to wait for him. "We can clean everything else while we wait," Keas suggests. Marcy shrugs; they may as well. So the two set out to clean the apartment some more; she starts off in the bathroom with a gas mask so she doesn't have to smell the shit or the bleach while Keas starts with cleaning out the bedroom they shared of all the items owned by the previous occupants. None of Floyd's clothes are big enough to fit his tall frame so he simply tosses them in a black garbage bag.

Four hours pass as the two make sure all the other rooms are clean as well. They just start on making dinner when the door to the apartment opens from the outside. Keas reaches up and rests his hand on the handle of his tomahawk as he watches the entrance to the kitchen. He lowers his hand when Trevor rounds the corner. Trev throws his hands in the air. "Uncle T has arrived!" he shouts. Marcy lets out a laugh and he grins.

"Perfect timing. We were just about to make dinner. Would you like to join us?" she asks politely. Trevor grins wide and nods. It's been a while since he ate a home cooked meal. He goes into the dining room and sits on a stool at the counter. Marcy shakes her head. "What do you think you're doing?" she asks, her right fist on her hip. Trevor furrows his brows.

"Waiting for the food," he responds more politely than he was going to. Marcy grabs a sharp cutting knife and sets it in front of him.

"I don't think so. Anyone who wants to eat has to pitch in and help." She grabs a cutting board and three full size carrots and places them before him as well. "All you need to do is slice them like this." She takes the knife and demonstrates how to do so with half of a carrot. "Get working." Trevor huffs as she turns around but picks up the knife anyway. It's better than just sitting there at least.

They continue to prepare the food in silence until Keas speaks up. "It's so strange," he mutters.

"What is?" Marcy and Trevor ask in unison. She lets out a giggle while Keas' lip twitches into a sad smile.

"Cooking without Dan," he explains. Marcy nods in agreement. Trevor looks between the two in confusion.

"Who the hell is Dan?" he asks.

Marcy collects the now sliced carrots and lays them throughout a high sided oven pan over some chicken drumsticks. "Daniel is my business partner, so to speak. He's very charismatic so I usually send him out to gain intel on rival dealers. He matches Keas in strength and fights in a similar fashion when doing hand-to-hand combat," she tells him. "I left him in charge while we're here on vacation." Trevor raises his hands.

"But aren't you called the 'Deadly Duo' though?" he asks. Keas nods.

"We got the nickname before he joined," he explains.

"So you trust him to run your meth business? Aren't you worried he'd try to take over?" he questions. He could only ever trust Ron with Trevor Phillips Enterprises, only because he knows Ron's too much of a pussy to defy him. Marcy grins.

"I plan to pass the business to him when he's ready. I think of this as an opportunity for him to prove he can handle it." She pours olive oil over the food after adding the garlic and potatoes Keas chopped. She places the pan in the oven and checks the time. "Alright. Dinner will be ready in thirty minutes. What shall we do while we wait?" she asks.

Trevor's lips widen in a perverted grin. "I can think of one thing," he says with a wink towards Marcy. She shakes her head but can't stop the smile. She digs into her pocket and pulls out a small burner phone.

"Prank phone calls anyone?"

* * *

Franklin lies back in his lounge chair by the pool. He decided to relax after finishing a job for Lester today. He closes his eyes just enjoying the last few rays from the sun before it sets in just a couple hours from now. His phone starts ringing in his pocket and he frowns. He knows Lester has used a different phone than his usual one before so he isn't too surprised when he sees the unknown number. He answers the phone with a sigh. "Yo, Frank speaking. What's up?" He hears a giggle in the receiver followed by a different person clearing their throat.

"Good evening, kind sir. Could you spare a moment of your time?" a man with a British accent speaks on the other side. Frank raises an eyebrow but shrugs.

"Sure, shoot." He leans back in his chair and puts his left hand behind his head.

"Thank you. I was wondering if you know someone named Ben Dover? I found your number in his phone," the man inquires. Franks shakes his head, his brows furrowed. He can't remember meeting anyone named Ben.

"Can't say I do. Sorry, man," he replies.

"Are you sure? He has you listed in his phone as 'Butt Buddy.' I was skeptical at first but he assured me you guarantee a good time," the man counters. Franklin jolts upright.

"What the fuck? What did you say his fucking name was?" he asks. He's starting to get pissed.

"Yes, right. His name is Ben Dover," he says. Frank hears another giggle in the receiver.

He stops for a moment and says the name to himself. _Ben Dover…_ Realization dawns on him. He's heard the name pun back in high school. He inwardly groans at himself. _I can't believe I fucking fell for that shit._ "Man, fuck you. Who the fuck is this?" He hears a single woman let out a loud laugh before the line goes dead. Franklin recognizes the laugh having heard it just yesterday. He shakes his head before muttering, "What the fuck am I getting myself into with her?"

* * *

The three friends laugh together, highly amused that the prank actually worked. Trev turns to Keas on his right with his arms wide. He gives the man a strong pat on the shoulder as he brings his arms in to grip either side of the armchair. "Keas that was brilliant! If this bodyguard business doesn't work out you can always try acting, my friend. Where the fuck did you learn that?" Keas smiles in return, a bit bashful at the compliments. Marcy decides to answer for him.

"Keas took drama classes back in high school, and even after his concussion he's loved doing impressions of others," she explains. "He does a killer Gimli impression," she adds with a smile. Trevor might not know who that is, but he is impressed none-the-less.

"That's a good skill to have," he comments. Marcy claps her hands together.

"Alright so we have another twenty-two minutes left. Who should we call next?" She looks between the two for any suggestions. Trevor grabs the phone and starts punching in numbers.

"I know just the guy," he says with a wicked grin.

* * *

Michael sighs to himself. Having his family back home was nice. He wasn't arguing with Amanda as much as he used to, and the house definitely doesn't feel as empty as it did when they were gone. He sits relaxing on his couch, mindlessly flipping through channels to find something mildly amusing to watch. Upon hearing his phone ring he pulls it from his pocket. Michael scrunches his face when he sees the unknown number; they haven't meant anything good lately. Reluctantly he answers with a, "Hello?"

"Hey, boss. The job's done," a woman's voice tells him through the receiver.

"Job? What job?" he asks. _What the fuck?_ The woman laughs.

"Very funny, boss. Look, it didn't go quite as planned. The guy was a lot more resilient than I anticipated, so you had best send a cleanup crew or something if you don't want word to spread." Michael is thoroughly confused now.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" he asks. He hears her chuckle.

"Credible deniability. Good thinking, boss. We don't want people knowing the mayor of LS is interrogating people with torture and making them disappear afterward. But I still need that cleaning crew." Mike's eyes are wide by now. He stands.

"The mayor is doing what?!" he shouts. Is he hearing her right? It's silent for a moment.

"Is…isn't _this_ the mayor?" she stutters.

"Uh, no," he replies. He hears a man chuckle in the background.

"Oh shit." And she hangs up.

Michael stares down at the phone for a while just trying to process what just happened. The mayor is interrogating people? Why? A thought crosses his mind; _He's not trying to find me and the guys, is he?_ They have been doing a lot of big jobs and it wouldn't be unlike police to try and figure out who's doing it. _I don't care if they find Trevor, but…_ He could never forgive himself if they found Franklin. He was a good kid.

Quickly Mike goes through his phone and start calling Franklin. He picks up rather quickly. "Yo, Mike; what's up?" he greets.

"Franklin, I just had the weirdest call," he starts. He goes to continue to explain what happened, but Frank starts speaking before he can.

"Was it from an unknown number?" F asks. Michael blinks in mild surprise.

"Yeah. How did you-."

"Did it end with 2781?" Franklin asks next.

Michael scratches his cheek. "Yeah, it did." Franklin scoffs.

"It was a fucking prank, man." Michael stands in the middle of his living room with a dumbfounded look on his face. Someone pulled a prank on him? And he fell for it! "They called me first," Frank adds next.

"Who was it?"

"It was this chick Marcy and her boy Keas. I met her a few days ago after she helped get rid of some Ballas that were after me," Franklin explains. "She's an impressive driver. Yesterday she helped me escape the cops."

"Well how the fuck did she get my cell number?" he asks. Franklin shrugs.

"Shit, I don't know, man. She went out to drinks with Trevor last night so she probably got it from him," Frank replies.

Tracey walks through the front door while Michael clenches his fist. _That fucker Trevor is always causing me unwanted troubles,_ he grumbles to himself. "You said her name was Marcy?" Mike asks to clarify. Tracey moves past the stairs she was going to climb and heads to the living room instead.

"Did you say Marcy?"

* * *

Trevor laughs when Marcy abruptly hangs up the burner phone. "Mike's gotta be fucking freaking out right now." He gives a grunt. "Oh I wish I could see his fucking face!" Keas lets out a chuckle and crosses his arms.

Marcy giggles. "We got about 13 more minutes, which should be enough for one more call. Who are we pranking next?" she asks. Keas' eyes brighten.

"I have a idea."

* * *

A loud sigh escapes light brown lips as the tall man walks through the front door of his apartment building. He tosses his ring of keys into a bowl on a shelf by the door and grudgingly kicks his white sneakers off. Ever since his best friends left Daniel has found the place to be too quiet. The TV in the first floor is off, still turned to the news station Keas always had it on. He would have it playing throughout the day for any info they may have on the three of them. Marcy's radio is also off in her living room. She deemed TV to rot her brain, so she always had music on instead.

Daniel stands in front of the stairs, the opening to the kitchen to his right and the living room's arched entrance to his left. He closes his brown eyes for a moment. He can almost hear Marcy's voice greeting him from behind. Dan turns around in hopes of seeing her, but is only met with disappointment. With a sigh he reluctantly makes his way up the stairs. He walks along the wall towards the door on the opposite side of the room that leads to the third floor.

After climbing the second set of stairs he closes the door behind him and leans back against it with another sigh. Daniel never thought he would feel this lonely again. After Katie's death Dan found himself in a rut, and each day after that it became deeper and deeper. When Marcy had him move in it stopped and slowly he's been getting better. He gets reminded of it all over again anytime he is alone, but he thought he could handle it now.

When he gave Marcy the idea to go on vacation it didn't cross his mind that she would invite Keas to go with her; nor the fact that he would agree. She did ask Dan if he wanted to go with after his suggestion, but he reasoned that someone had to keep an eye on the finances and they both knew Keas was bad at math. Daniel figured Marcy would go on vacation by herself and leave the two men behind. He planned on using the time to get closer to Keas. Despite knowing him for eight years Dan feels like he doesn't know enough about the other male of his group. He knows almost nothing of his past except for a few tidbits Keas felt like sharing with him. Daniel also hoped to learn if Keas is even a little bit gay.

The man moves his light brown bangs away from his eyes while heaving a sigh. He already knows about Keas' feelings towards Marcy. After she broke up with Janice a few months back he's been trying to convince Keas to make his move. He's already tried himself, but Marcy always thinks he's joking around and doesn't take him seriously. Despite how much it would overjoy him for Marcy to start dating him, he would be even more ecstatic if she started dating Keas instead.

Dan moves to the couch in his room and plops down onto it. He lifts his legs and rests his feet onto the woken coffee table in front of him. Before he gets the chance to fully relax, however, his phone starts going off. He flips it open and frowns when he doesn't recognize the number. Only six people have his number: Marcy, Keas, his parents, and his two older brothers. He answers the call reluctantly. "Hello? Who is this?" he asks, his tone cold.

"Is this Daniel?" a gruff voice asks on the other side of the line.

"And if it is?" he responds cautiously. Dan doesn't recognize the voice.

"Do you know a-" he grunts low in an almost perverted way before continuing, "gorgeous young lady named Marcy?" Daniel stands from his seat, his eyes narrowing dangerously. His eyes dart to the assault rifle resting against a cabinet close to the door.

"What have you done to her?" Daniel growls out. _If he hurt her…_

The man chuckles. "Oh nothing yet. But tell me; have you two done the nasty? How does she like it? I like to get a little rough, myself. Maybe a little smack or two while I'm drilling her." The man laughs. Daniel can feel his bloodlust build with each word he says.

"You so much as lay a finger on her and you'll know personally what hell is like before I send you there," Dan threatens. He moves to the closet situated between the bathroom to the left and his bedroom door to the right. He slides the folding door to the side when the man speaks again.

"Now who ever said she was doing this unwillingly?" She's in the bathroom now getting some lingerie on. I just wanted some advice on what she likes." He laughs again when he hears Daniel growl.

"Then you don't know Marcy." Dan grabs a duffle bag full of magazines and 2 changes of clothes from a shelf and moves away from the closet swiftly. "She would never sleep with someone after knowing them for three days and she doesn't own any lingerie." _Trust me; I checked._ Dan grabs the assault rifle as he heads out the door and down the flight of stairs. "I swear if you don't release her-."

"You'll what?" he interrupts. Daniel turns to his left at the bottom of the stairs and begins following along the wall through Marcy's living room. "You're all the way on the mainland while I'm livin' the life here in San Andreas. You'll never get here on time," he taunts. Dan shoves open the door leading to the next set of stairs effectively forcing the doorknob into the drywall.

"I'll make you regret everything you do. I'll make sure to replicate anything you may do to her and make it 10x more painful." Daniel hears a hushed female voice in the background but he can't make out what she said.

"Shut up, bitch. I'm not done." Daniel reaches the bottom step when he hears a loud smack and a few loud thuds. He stops and furrows his brows at the sounds. He can hear the man grumble, "Fuck," before the phone is picked up from the floor.

"Daniel?" Marcy's voice speaks clearly and Dan feels relief wash over him.

"Marcy are you okay? Did that guy touch you? I'll pulverize him." Marcy giggles and Dan can feel his bloodlust lessen a bit.

"I'm fine, D. We were bored while waiting for dinner to finish and decided to do a few prank calls. I didn't know Trevor would go that far," she explains. Daniel feels his shoulders relax finally.

"He must be one of those friends you texted me about earlier," he reasons. They messaged each other a bit when she took a break from cleaning.

"Yeah. It's a bit of a long story and dinner will be done in just a few minutes. Keas and I will call you later, ok? And I'm sorry about Trevor." Dan scoffs and waves a dismissive hand even though she can't see it.

"It's alright. Enjoy your food."

Marcy giggles. "Don't forget to eat! Bye Dan."

"Goodbye Marcy." Dan lets out a sigh of relief after hanging up the phone. He's certainly glad nothing bad was actually happening.

* * *

"You ready?" The three unlikely friends stand before the door separating them from the decaying bodies. Marcy stands to the right with the gas mask and gloves she wore earlier. Keas stands to her left with a few extra-large garbage bags and his hollow mask moved to cover his face. Trevor is on the far left with a large red hand print marking his right cheek from earlier. Marcy takes a deep breath.

"Ready," she says with a nod. Keas reaches out and opens the door inward. The stench wafts out quickly. Marcy looks away to compose herself while Trevor takes a deep breath. He lets out a content sigh.

"Nice and ripe!" He moves into the room first. Immediately Trevor goes to the corpse of the male and reaches his hand toward the ass. With a **pop** he pulls a large black dildo from the anus and holds it up proudly. "This was Debra's. Wanna keep it?" he asks, holding it out towards the other two. Marcy scrunches her face in disgust.

"No thanks. If I want a big black dick I'll find a real one," she retorts. Trevor shrugs before tossing it to Keas. He quickly holds out one of the garbage bags and catches it inside. "Nice catch, Keas."

Trevor lifts the body previously known as Floyd with ease. The left arm falls right out of the socket and rolls to a stop in front of Marcy's feet. She jumps, suppressing the shriek that wanted to escape. She's had no problem taking someone's life before, but having to take care of the bodies was something she never worried about. She never imagined the stench to be worse than the smell of burning bodies. Trevor laughs at her reaction as Keas helps him stuff the body in one of the bags. "The mighty Alice Cross is scared of a little arm?" he taunts. He picks up the arm and waves it in her face. She narrows her eyes and snatches the arm from his hand before stuffing it into the bag with the rest of the body.

"Fuck you, Trevor," she grumbles. He grins wide.

"You know you want to."

The three continue their work loading the bodies into the bags along with the bedding into the third. The mattress will have to be removed at a later time. It's silent for the most part with a few remarks thrown in every once in a while. Once most of the bloodied objects are thrown into the last bag the friends stand back to admire the work they got done.

Keas looks to his wrist to see the time read 8:24pm on his watch. "Took less time than a thought," he comments. The other two nod in agreement.

"It was easier with three people working together," Marcy responds. "So where should we take these bags? The water is pretty close." She takes off her bloodied gloves and throws them into the bag closest to her before tying it up. She picks it up and begins to half drag it to the door. Marcy stops at the front door to open it and takes the chance to glance at the words they decided to leave scribbled on the wall: **Eat. Shit. Die.**

Trevor smiles as a thought comes to mind. "After our little stunt yesterday the cops have been all over the beach. I passed a few on the way over." He closes the front door after he passes through it. He then proceeds to follow the two down the stairs carrying the bag with a deceased Debra. He takes special relish in tossing the bag roughly into the bed of the truck on top of the other bags. Trev climbs into the cab of his Bodhi then looks through the open window at his friends. "There's only room for two in here so one of ya's gonna need to ride in the bed."

Marcy turns back to offer that she ride in the back, but Keas raises his hand to stop her before she can. "I don't mind. Go ahead, Marcy." He climbs in the bed without hesitation making Marcy pout and reluctantly climb into the passenger seat. Trevor offers her a grin as she removes the mask.

"Are you not wearing make-up? You look different today," he comments. He had noticed her drastic change of style when he first arrived at the apartment, but decided to wait before addressing the topic. Marcy shoots him a glare as she buckles herself in. She looks down at her pink unicorn shirt she still has on and she can feel thin pieces of hair hit her face.

"I've had an off day, alright? Leave my appearance out of it," she states. Trevor shrugs and leaves it at that. It's not that she looks bad, anyway; just different than the last time he saw her.

"Anyway, I know the perfect way to dump these bags." He takes off onto the road and Marcy keeps an eye out the window for the street signs. She really needs to learn more about the city itself and not rely on her GPS all the time. "There's a helipad not too far from here. We can hijack a helicopter and take it out far into the ocean; no one will notice a thing."

Marcy whips her head around to look at Trevor with her eyes wide. "A h-helicopter?" she stutters. She has never been in any aircraft other than large planes. The thought of being in such a small space high in the air terrifies her. And after their little adventure yesterday she saw just how easy helicopters can go down. "Can't we just hijack a boat or something?" she asks.

Trevor raises his right eyebrow at her. "Sorry; no can do. The waters are covered in police boats. What – you scared or something?" he asks teasingly. Marcy's stiff and silent response gives him all the answer he needs. "Shit, really? Didn't you fly over here?" Marcy turns away.

"That was different," she mutters as she folds her arms. "That one was a lot bigger. And it wasn't completely filled with criminals," she retorts. Trevor lets out a dry laugh. "Besides, do you even know how to operate one? I know I can't and Keas can't even drive a car."

The balding man maneuvers around a line of cars in their way, earning a few honks and middle fingers from the drivers. "Don't worry about a thing. I've been flying for years. If that bitch psychiatrist hadn't labeled me insane I would be a fighter pilot right now," he grumbles at the end.

"Wow, really? That's actually really impressive, Trev." She's a bit surprised, but glad that one of them knows how to fly.

"Now wait. Keas doesn't know how to drive?" he asks. How can a grown man not know how? Marcy offers him a small smile.

"Well technically he knows how, but he doesn't legally have a license. He's best when driving off-road rather than following the traffic laws." Trevor scoffs. He moves into the incoming lane before finally pulling into a large cement area with a fence around it and two helipads. A pilot just shuts down the helicopter he successfully landed when the three friends exit the Bodhi.

"Perfect. Keas grab the bags," Trev orders as he makes his way to the now empty chopper. Keas moves the bags out of the bed quickly. Marcy grabs one and begins pulling it over as quickly as she can. She opens the back sliding door and lifts the bag in just before Trevor starts it up. Marceline looks back to Keas to make sure he's fine carrying the other two bags before she moves to climb into the passenger seat. Keas lifts the bags inside easily then pulls himself in and shuts the door. Without a second to lose Trevor expertly raises the craft into the air and moves out towards the water.

"I'm surprised that other pilot didn't say anything about us taking this thing," Marcy comments aloud. She tries to keep her eyes focused on her hands as the three move about in the air. If she doesn't look out and see just how high they are than the knot in her stomach won't become worse.

Trevor flies as smoothly as he can after spotting just how uneasy she seems. "That's probably because I killed the last pilot that tried to stop me," he responds. He grins wide when he hears her laugh.

"That sounds like something you would do," she quips with a smile. Keas pokes his head between the two rather suddenly.

"When we dropping these things? They stink," he questions the two.

"Just a bit further," Trev replies. "I want to be sure no cops see." Normally the older man wouldn't care if they saw, but with how green Marcy is looking already he figured it would be best not to have an aerial chase at the moment.

"Good. 'Cause this bag's got a hole now." Marcy cringes as the smell moves throughout the cabin. She tries to keep her breathing slow to reduce the amount she breathes in. She fights back the bile wanting to rise in her throat at the acrid smell.

After only a couple minutes Marcy lets out a loud frustrated yell, effectively scaring both men in the process. "Keas, dump the bags now," she demands. The crimson haired friend knows by her tone that she's at her limit to stay calm. He moves to open the side door quickly.

"Wait, Keas!" Trevor speaks up, making the man stop for a moment. Marcy whips around and gives him a look. He pulls the door open right away. "Marcy there's a police boat right below us. If he drops them now they are sure to send a chopper after us." Marcy shoots him a glare.

"I don't give a flying fuck," she says bluntly. "We are high as fuck in the air over an ocean full of dangerous sea creatures. We have bags of decaying bodies seeping nauseating fumes. I trust you as a friend and a pilot to get us away from any danger." Marceline turns back to Keas again. "Dump the bags." He nods swiftly and tosses one bag after the other out the door and into the waters below. As soon as the last one is through the open door Keas closes it and Trevor moves the air craft away as quickly as he can.

After a minute they can hear sirens and radio chatter from the police. Based on what they're saying they haven't located the criminals yet. Trevor lifts the chopper higher in the air to stay out of sight of a police helicopter below them. Silence remains between the friends as they wait for the police to give up the chase. Suddenly they hear over the radio, "Suspect is in a… uh… black helicopter headed toward the Palomino Highlands."

"Shit," the friends say collectively. Trevor moves north over the highlands trying to spot a place to either hide or make a stand.

"Head toward Palomino Freeway," Marcy suggests.

"Why?"

"There's a railroad close by there toward the northwest that goes into a tunnel. We can land nearby and hide in there." The older man takes her suggestion and moves in that direction. They fly over trees, bushes, and police cars on nearby streets before finally the freeway is in their sights. Gunshots sound behind them as they begin their decent. Trevor passes Keas his advanced scoped sniper rifle. "Take out the pilot, Keas," Marcy commands.

The 37-year-old nods in understanding as he levels the weapon against his right shoulder. In a swift motion he yanks the sliding door back open and leans out the entrance a bit to see behind them properly. He spots the enemy chopper and quickly raises the rifle's scope closer so he can get a proper bead on it. As soon as he has the pilot focused in the center of his sight Keas pulls the trigger before he can move out of the way. The bullet hits him square in the chest and he slumps forward. The helicopter begins to spin out of control behind them just as they pass over the freeway.

Trevor brings the air craft down and makes a hasty landing between some bushes. It bounces a bit before settling down safely. The three friends scramble out of the vehicle quickly and run toward the nearby train tunnel. Faintly Marcy can hear the sounds of another helicopter coming their way. She runs into the tunnel first followed closely by Trevor. Keas stops at the entrance momentarily to look back at the freeway. He can see several police cruisers stopping in search of them. He hurriedly runs to catch up to the other two.

"Let me guess: they're searching the area?" Trevor questions when Keas catches up. Marcy is leaning against the wall to their right trying to calm her raging heart. Flying really does scare her too much sometimes. When Keas answers Trev's question with a nod the older man growls. He turns to Marcy and shoots her an accusatory glare. "If you had just listened to me than we wouldn't be in this fucking mess!" he shouts at her.

Marcy's eyes narrow. "Excuse me? You're going to blame this all on me?" She pushes off from the wall and takes a few steps towards him, stepping over one of the tracks in the process. "I do recall that you were the one who murdered the people we had to dump." Trevor clenches his fists. "Not to mention you didn't have to agree to help."

"I seem to recall you stated I _had_ to help," he retorts sharply. "And no, I didn't have to, but I did. You're the one that fucked it all up. Who the hell is scared of flying anyway?" Marcy stiffens at the topic change. But not in fear; no – in anger.

"So fucking what? That has nothing to do with this," she states defensively. Trevor growls deep in his throat and moves closer to her until they are nose to nose for the second time since meeting one another.

"You bet your fat ass it has everything to do with this shit we're in! If you would have kept your shit together we could have moved away from the police and avoided all of this. But you couldn't fucking _wait_ to bail." Marcy doesn't respond and simply glares up into his brown eyes that are filled with anger.

She hates to admit it but he is right. If she hadn't been so selfish and had just trusted Trevor's pilot skills than they really wouldn't be hiding from police in a railroad tunnel. She closes her eyes and Trevor can feel her warm breath on his lips as she lets out a deep sigh to calm her anger. She opens her green eyes and opens her lips to speak when a noise catches their attention. They can hear a police radio coming from the entrance of the tunnel that they came through. A horn from the opposite direction sounds and the three turn in time to see a long train coming toward them. Keas is already off the tracks, but the arguing pair is not.

Trevor acts quickly and grips Marcy's upper arms rather tightly. He moves her backwards until her back hits the rough wall she was previously leaning against. He presses himself against her to ensure he's far enough away from the train for his own safety. The train moves along the tracks behind him and separates the two from their red headed friend. Marcy's eyes are wide as she gazes at the man. She feels a shiver rack her frame when she feels his breath against her face and neck from the sigh of relief that escapes him. When he moves his eyes to meet hers after having felt her shiver he offers her a lopsided smile.

Marcy feels something stir inside of her. At first the feeling is pleasant, but it's mixed with regret soon after. "I'm sorry," she mutters. "You're right; it is my fault." She squirms under the pressure of his body as she looks away from his face. She tries to fight down the heat rising within her when she feels the low rumble of a growl escape from his throat.

"You'd better watch your movements there, sweet cheeks," he warns. "From here it would be very easy to do what I want." Marcy feels her face grow warm.

 _What's stopping you?_ Her naughty retort echoes in her mind and she mentally slaps herself. _No! Not the right place or the right person!_ She shakes her head and laughs aloud. She slides her hands up to his chest and pushes him until he's no longer against her. "Easy there, T. Keas will kick your ass if you try."

He gives her a sly look. "You're right. He would flip seeing me mess with the woman he loves." Trevor moves away from her just as the last cart moves past them. Keas hurries across the tracks as soon as it is possible and goes to Marcy's side immediately.

"Are you ok?" he asks, his voice full of worry. Although her mind is blank as it tries to process what Trevor just told her, she feels her heart warm at Keas' sincere concern.

"I'm alright," she mutters out. "He got me out of the way in time." Keas sighs in obvious relief.

"Thank goodness." He lifts his hand and places it atop her head. She jolts at the familiar gesture now seeing it in a new way. Just looking at his smiling face seems…different. "T?" he calls to the man watching the two with a mischievous smirk. "Can you bring us home?" Trevor uncrosses his arms.

"I'll check to see if the police are gone and if the helicopter is still here." As he passes his two friends he gives Marcy a wink. He looks smug as he heads to the entrance.

It's silent between the best friends as they wait for Trevor to come back. In all the years they've been living together it never fully occurred to her the possibility that Keas could love her in return. She's dreamed of it, sure. The thought has even crossed her mind a handful of times, but she always dismissed it shortly after. And now she can't seem to bring herself to look at him in fear of having an uncontrollable blush overtake her. What will she do if Trevor is right and Keas does love her? And if he does, then why didn't he say anything before?

"Marcy?" The young woman snaps from her thoughts and looks to her friend to see the concern clear on his face. She can already feel the blush beginning to creep to the surface and she fights it down. "Are you sure you ok? You're being quiet." She smiles sheepishly before letting out a yawn.

"Yeah, I'm ok. Just lost in thought is all. Thank you for the concern." It falls silent for a moment longer before Keas turns to her with a determined expression.

"Marcy, I-."

"Hey! The coast is clear!" Trevor calls out, effectively cutting off Keas on whatever he was about to confess. "Come on, ya lovebirds."

"We're coming!" Marcy calls back, a dusting of pink on her cheeks. She turns to Keas to see him flushed red as well. "I'm sorry, Keas. What were you going to say?" But he shakes his head, some of his red hair falling into his eyes.

"Nothing." He takes her hand and begins pulling her toward the impatiently waiting Trevor. "Let's go home."

Upon arriving home Marcy gathered her bathroom supplies and a couple towels. After using the shower head to thoroughly wash her hair she filled the tub for a relaxing soak. She leans against the back of the tub so her head rests at the top against the wall. She has her legs crossed loosely beneath the water so almost all of her is submerged. She lets out a sigh, simply enjoying the hot water.

Marcy's thoughts drift to the flight back to the house. Keas had held her in the back seat to help ease her fear of flying. She had to bury her face into his shoulder just to hide her massive blush. He was very considerate about how she was feeling the entire time.

"But that's just Keas being Keas. He's always been like this," she reasons aloud. _Maybe Trevor was wrong?_ But even that doesn't sound right. He's not the type to say something he doesn't mean.

With a deep sigh Marceline reluctantly stands from the cooling waters and releases the drain. She dries her hair quite a bit with one towel before tossing it in a hamper and grabbing the next. She learned years ago that she sheds like a dog during her showers and using the same towel for her hair and body is not an option. She brushes out her thick hair before wrapping the towel around herself and exiting the bathroom.

Marcy turns to gaze at the living room and is slightly surprised when she doesn't see the familiar red hair she intended to see. She had told Keas not to wait up for her before entering the bathroom since she wasn't sure how long she would be. She moves into the bedroom to the right and spots her friend lying on the bed facing the wall. Marcy digs through her bag before pulling out a light pink nightgown that's the same design as the blue one she wore the night before. She slips it over herself and then drops the towel to the floor once the nightgown is on fully. She moves it into the clothes hamper in the room. After slipping on a pair of panties Marcy then picks up her phone from the dresser top while making sure not to pull the charger out. She shoots a quick text to Daniel wishing him a good night and states that she'll call him sometime tomorrow.

After locking it back up she turns back to the bed containing her best friend. The thought of going out and sleeping on the couch crosses her mind briefly but she pushes it away. She climbs into the bed while trying to be sure not to accidentally wake him. Keas stirs in his sleep briefly to turn onto his back.

Marcy lays there trying to find a comfortable position, but her mind continues to think of all the times she made Keas worry. She lets out a sigh thinking it will take hours before she finally falls asleep. Casting a glance to her favorite redhead she decides to be a little bold. She turns to him and wraps her arms around his left one and rests her head against his shoulder. Once she closes her eyes she finds her mind at ease. After a short while her breathing slows and Marceline falls into a peaceful sleep with a smile gracing her lips.

Keas cracks open his blue eyes when he knows she's asleep. He turns his head and smiles gently at her peaceful expression. He presses a soft kiss to the top of her head before resting his head against hers. Keas falls asleep shortly after with a smile of his own.

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Hello! I hope everyone enjoys this chapter. I was very happy with it. It took a couple days to type it up in my free time but I got it done! Please let me know what you think and review!

-Jen


	10. Chapter 9

**Hello, everyone! I'm sorry it's been so long since I last updated, and that this chapter is much shorter than my normal ones. It just felt like a good place to end it.**

 **A lot of stuff has been keeping me busy from focusing on this. My family is always going to be my top priority. I'll update whenever I finish writing each chapter, so the update times will vary. But I'm not giving up on this story! I have some big things planned for these two and their friends, but it will be slow getting to it. Please be patient, and let me know how you like the story. Creative criticism is always welcome as well.**

* * *

The day started out really well. Marcy made eggs for breakfast and they had a nice chat about what they would do for the day. So far a bike ride along the beach and another trip to the carnival was on the list. Marcy had a hankering to bake later on so she decided to head to a small store for some groceries while Keas finished getting ready for the day. Now that she's made it to the store, it's not going so well anymore.

"Help, someone! They took all my money!" a dark haired woman shouts next to an ATM machine just down the street from Marceline.

Unfortunately for the robber he was running right towards her car. Waiting until the perfect moment, Marcy opens her car door just in time for the blond man to run right into it and fall to the ground. She climbs out and grins as he scrambles onto his feet.

"Stay out of this, man!" Marcy cocks an eyebrow at that. He tries to rush past her but she grabs the back of his shirt and whips him around, slamming him into the side of her car. She holds him there with her arm across his shoulder blades and pressing her weight into his back. With her free hand she nabs the purse he stole.

"I would scram if I were you. I'm packing an uzi with me today and it would be wise not to piss me off."  
The look on his face made her swear he was pissing himself.

"Sure, whatever you say, man!" She lets him go and he takes off. "Stupid bitch!" he yells over his shoulder. Big mistake.  
Marceline pulls her uzi from her shoulder purse and aims right at his back. With narrowed eyes she pulls the trigger. He falls to the ground and she doesn't let up until her clip is empty. As soon as it's empty she replaces the clip with a full one.

With a satisfied smirk Marcy joyfully walks down the street to the distressed woman and holds her purse out to her.  
She smiles gratefully as she moves close to retrieve it. "Thank you so much!" she exclaims.

"Women should stick up for each other, right?" Marcy responds with a grin.

"There should be more people like you around here." With that the dark haired woman turns and walks away, pulling her phone out in the process.

The auburn haired woman smiles. "If there were, we would be fucked." She laughs to herself as she moves towards the grocery store she had intended to shop at.

Upon entering the man behind the counter greets her casually. She gives a nod in return as she grabs a basket by the door and proceeds to browse through the shelves for what she needs. Milk, eggs, flour, sugar, cocoa powder, instant oatmeal, and a few other things as well.

Once satisfied that she has everything she'll need she begins heading to the counter. However, a brown haired man who looks to be in his mid forties walks in with a large assault rifle in his hands.

 _I certainly hope he's not friends with the guy I stopped. My uzi won't be enough against that._ Marcy muses to herself. However the man doesn't pay her any mind and aims the gun at the cashier.

"Give me the fucking money!" He shouts. He opens fire on a few liquor bottles behind the man.

"Ok ok, please! Don't hurt me!" he whimpers as he works the register open and begins putting money into a plastic shopping bag. As he does so the robber continues to break the merchandise to intimidate the cashier. Marcy takes the opportinuty to grab some extra things she hadn't planned on grabbing before: a box of tampons, condoms, a few energy drinks, a 6-pack of beer, a pint of vanilla vodka, and a couple lighters.

Finally the cashier tosses the bag over the counter onto the floor. The older man moves forward and scoops it up. As soon as he turns his back to run out the door the cashier ducks under the counter and comes back up with a shotgun.  
Instincts take over and Marceline finds herself pulling her uzi from her purse and gunning the cashier down. As he falls back his gun goes off, hitting the shelving unit next to the robber.

He whirled around at the sound of gunshots and witnessed the save. He turns his gun to Marcy and they seem to have a stare down. Green eyes bore into intense hazel ones, neither of the two lowering their weapons.

Finally Marcy offers the man a nod and lowers her gun. He nods in return and cautiously heads to the door, still keeping a close eye on her movements. It isn't until he's right before the door that he sees her stuff the gun back into her large purse. He hurries out and quickly gets into his Maibatsu Penumbra he had stolen shortly before. He hastily buckles in and takes off before anything else can happen.

Marcy strolls out of the store with her basket full of now free goodies. She sets the basket in her passenger seat before taking her place behind the wheel. Hearing the sounds of sirens coming from the south, Marcy takes a backroad north then heads northeast on a main road. She knows it's away from her apartment but it's better to drive further than get in a cop chase.

Less than 30 minutes later Marcy waltzes through the front door to her apartment with a pleased grin on her face. In her arms is the plastic grocery basket. Keas raises an eyebrow at the sight.

"You're not supposed to take the basket," he comments as she sets it onto the counter. She smiles.

"Well once I killed the cashier it would have been pointless to leave it behind," she retorts playfully. Keas' eyes widen as he watches her unload the basket. She spots the look on his face and laughs. "Honestly it was an accident. This guy burst in with an assault rifle and started robbing the cashier so I grabbed a few more things than planned. When he got the cash and went to leave the cashier grabbed a shotgun and went to shoot him. I grabbed my uzi and shot the cashier instead. The robber left and I left shortly after."

Keas frowns, a small blush appearing unintentionally when he spots the box of condoms laying on the counter. He had asked to go along with her to the store, but she insisted she would be fine. And although he's glad she came home safe, he's worried that the next time they won't be so lucky. Her bruise still hasn't faded, after all. He steps closer to her and places his hands on her shoulders when she turns to him.

"I go with from now on," he states sternly. Marcy blinks up at his serious expression and grins.

"Of course. From now on you go with me to the store," she responds easily. Keas narrows his eyes at the way she worded it, but drops it since she did agree to what he wanted. He drops his hands and grabs the milk, moving to put it in the fridge. Marcy grabs the eggs and follows behind him.

"So we'll rent some bikes and ride around down by the beach, right?" Marcy asks. Keas glances at her before moving away to grab more of the groceries.

"Right." His short response is no surprise to her. He's mad and concerned so he won't talk much until he can calm down.

"Then we can come back here for lunch, and then head out to the carnival afterward. Does that sound good to you?" Marcy picks up the box of tampons. Keas shifts his eyes to her briefly before picking up the flour and going to put it in a high cupboard.

"Yes."

Marcy nods and moves to the bathroom to place the box in there. When she comes back out she's pleasantly surprised to see almost all of the groceries already put away. Keas works quickly when he's agitated. She grabs the box of condoms she bought and brings them to their shared bedroom. It will be a few days before the smell of bleach fades so one of them can move into the other one.

Keas frowns as he places the peanut butter in a cupboard. They were supposed to be here on vacation to get away from the excitement of their criminal lives, but lately that seems to be a lost cause. Ever since they showed up here they've been dragged into more dangerous situations than what they would normally go through back at home in this short amount of time.

 _Maybe..._ God he doesn't want to think this, but... _maybe it would be best if we just went back home. Marcy's hurt and is so carefree here that she's dropping her guard too much_.

Keas watches Marcy return to view in his peripheral vision. She moves about the living room humming a happy tune, picking up a few things here and there to straighten everything up. A smile graces her glossed pink lips.

 _This is the happiest I've seen her, though..._ Keas' conflicting thoughts confuse him, and there's only one other person he can turn to when he can't talk to Marcy about what's bothering him.

"I'll be outside," he tells her. Marcy looks up from the book cover she was inspecting and smiles bright.

"Alright. I'll just check out this book."

Keas nods before slipping his shoes on and stepping out. He takes a seat on the steps and pulls out his phone. After selecting the name he was looking for he waits patiently for them to pick up.

Daniel yawns as he grabs his ringing phone from the nightstand next to him. He had planned on sleeping in since he didn't have anywhere to go until 3, but he supposes that was just wishful thinking. After seeing the name and picture displayed he tries to smile in the middle of his yawn. He answers it with a wide grin.

"Well good morning, Keas. This is a pleasant surprise," he greets. Keas chuckles on the other side.

"Good morning, Dan."

"What seems to be troubling you?" Daniel knows phone calls from Keas are very rare. They usually only take place when he's troubled and looking for advice. It doesn't bother Dan; he's just happy to know that the older man trusts him enough to turn to him.

Keas smiles briefly before frowning again. "We've had lots of trouble here. Car chase, boat chase, even killed Janice and group she had. Marcy has bad bruise, too. And today she was at the store when it got robbed. I don't think this good place for vacation away from crime."

Daniel hums, throwing his blanket off and swinging his legs over the side. "That does sound troubling. Is Marcy unhappy?" He slips on a pair of black sweats.

"She's happier than her 30th birthday party."

Dan whistles. "She was the happiest I had ever seen her. Man that was a night." He stands and heads out of his bedroom. He begins his trek downstairs to grab some breakfast. "If she's that happy then you guys must be doing something right. I don't think Marcy minds the danger; she's always lept headfirst into it. Especially when it comes to helping someone else." He pauses a moment to think of how to word his next sentence. "I think... a life without crime for Marcy is out of the question. It's what she grew up with and she pursued that sort of life on her own. Maybe one day if she moves out in the middle of nowhere she can get away from it, but in any city she'll always be a part of trouble. So long as you keep her safe and you're both having fun without the responsibilities of our lives here then you're still having a successful vacation."

It's silent for a moment as Keas contemplates what Dan told him. Daniel takes the chance to set his phone on the kitchen counter and turn on speaker phone. He begins rummaging through the fridge for the eggnog he was able to find at the grocery store the other day. He was surprised they carried it so far out of season but was glad none the less.

"So..."

Daniel pops his head out of the fridge momentarily to hear, but when Keas stops himself, he dives back in to snatch the eggnog he located. He grabs a cup from a high cupboard and pours himself a small glass. When he goes to take a sip Keas speaks up again.

"So as long as Marcy is happy, we're going ok?" Dan stops himself from chuckling.

"It's a vacation for both of you, not just her. If you're not happy then tell her. She'll understand; you know she will." He takes a gulp, leaning on the counter next to his phone.

"I'm happy as long as Marcy is happy and safe."

"Then I don't see a problem. Just enjoy your vacation with her and leave the business to me," Dan replies easily.

Keas smiles. "Thanks, Dan. That helps a lot."

"Well of course. You know I love hearing your voice, big man. Any chance to speak with you is a blessing." Daniel grins, just knowing Keas is blushing simply by the silence.

"...I'm hanging up now."

"Oh come now, Keas. Don't be like that. I haven't seen you in a few days now. I miss you guys." Dan smiles when he hears Keas chuckle.

"I know. We both miss you, too. It's... weird not having you around."

"Same here. It's really lonely here without you two. I was thinking about getting a puppy to keep me company while you're away," Dan muses. He takes another sip as Keas laughs.

"It would probably eat one of the stray bullets you leave around."

Daniel chokes on his drink. He coughs a few times to clear his airway. "Hey!" He turns to look at his phone in disbelief. "I would clean up first!"

"It would be messy within the hour."

"I resent that!" Dan shouts. Keas' laughter makes his scowl fade to a smile, however. "It almost feels like you're right next to me sharing our usual banter. You should call me more often while you're away. It would make it less lonely."

"I'll... try. Not sure how busy it will be."

"Makes sense," Dan agrees. A beep signals a message was recieved on his phone. He picks it up and scrolls down on the screen to see who it's from. Daniel can't stop the chuckle that escapes. "Looks like we should hang up. Marcy just asked if I've had breakfast yet. And you know how she can get when I don't eat." Keas chuckles as well.

"Yes. Thank you, Dan. I'll talk to you again."

"You had better! Goodbye Keas. Until next time."

"Until next time. Goodbye."

Keas lets out a deep sigh. Talking with Daniel always helps him, and also calms his nerves. Keas takes a deep breath then slowly lets it out, trying to ease the tension in his shoulders. He repeats the action once more before standing from his spot on the stairs.

 _Everything's going alright. We're happy and having fun. That's important._

Keas walks through the door and stops when the living room comes into view. He takes a moment to watch Marcy as she sits on the couch reading the book she held earlier. The light coming in from the window across from her makes her auburn hair shine as it rests in loose curls down her back. He can spot some of her tan skinned shoulders that are exposed thanks to her spaghetti strapped turquoise tank top. They're hunched just a tad as she holds the book aloft in front of her. She's calm, a small relaxed smile just barely visible from where he stands. He could stand here watching her all day and he would never be bored.

Keas shakes his head. It's time to get their day going in the right direction.

He walks forward into her line of sight and clears his throat. Marcy looks up, her smile widening at the sight of him.

"Hey! Are we ready to go?" she asks. She leans forward and rips a page from a small notebook resting on the coffee table. She then stuffs it between the pages she was reading and shuts the book, and then places it carefully on the table.

"Yeah. Bikes first, right?" he mutters. She grins happily, bouncing off the couch and onto her ankle socked feet.

"That's right! I think there's a place just down the beach here we can walk to. Let's go!" She practically skips to the closet where their shoes are located. Keas follows her with a smile.

 _We're happy and having fun._ His smile grows as he watches Marcy tie her shoes while whistling an unfamiliar tune. _I'll make sure she has the best vacation ever._ With that last thought they both saunter through the door to officially start their day of fun.


End file.
